The Squandered Heart
by moonrevel
Summary: Hermione and Severus discover how difficult it is to find answers in the middle of a war. Will they learn anything about themselves, or eachother?
1. Another Year

_A/N: I owe my dear betas, anogete and daciangoddess, a huge debt of gratitude. They spent a lot of time beating this story into submission, and I appreciate all of their hard work._

_Obligatory: None of these things belong to me; they all belong to JKR. I just like to have a bit of fun with them, and no profit is desired. _

--

A tall, pale figure sat alone in a dark room, tapping his fingers against his cheek, staring at a clock whose glass face had long ago been shattered. The hands were of little use to one who wanted to know the actual time, as this was a place where time stood still. Rather, one could follow the hands to assess how much time had passed since they had begun staring at it.

Severus Snape was weary, and, as usual, agitated. How long would they keep him in this room before giving him any information about his fate, he wondered. If they were planning to kill him, the one to whom that task had been assigned would likely give little warning of his approach, so Severus decided simply to sit with his back to the door; bereft of his wand as he was, there was nothing he could do to delay the inevitable.

Judging by the rising and setting of the sun over the many days he had been scurrying around Britain with Draco Malfoy, and the time he had seen pass on the shattered clock since he had arrived at the unnamed manor, Snape assumed that it was late August. Had it been any other year, he would be grumbling about Hogwarts Castle, waiting for the arrival of a fresh crop of dunderheads to guide through the art of potion making. Fortunately, or unfortunately, this was the year it was; instead of eating with his colleagues, he was here, waiting on news of his demise.

The memory of murdering Dumbledore was still fresh in his mind. It had been a long time since he had cast _Avada Kedavra_ on anyone, and he had certainly never cast it against a wizard as powerful as Dumbledore. Certainly, in his previous stint as a servant for the Dark Lord, he had used the sinister green curse on defenseless Muggles and weak wizards, but never had the act carried quite as many consequences as this one had and would. Aware of this, Severus had taken Draco with him on his flight, for the sake of both of their necks; even as they flitted from safe house to safe house, Snape knew their luck would eventually run out, and someone would find them, either Auror or Death Eater, to make them pay for their actions.

He was not sure how they had been found; only that one early morning had found them bound with invisible ropes, and Apparated into this place. They had been separated, and if he knew the Death Eaters as well as he thought he did, Draco was probably long dead. After all, when the Dark Lord had assigned the task of killing Albus Dumbledore to the boy, he had expected Draco to fail. This had given him more time to punish the Malfoy family for its patriarch's failure in the Department of Mysteries before bringing the lives of all three Malfoys to an end. Just as the Dark Lord had predicted, the boy had failed miserably.

Severus Snape, however, was not one to fail when he had been assigned a task. Both of his masters had made it clear that Dumbledore was to die. The Dark Lord had assigned it to Draco, Narcissa had bound Severus to the task, and Dumbledore had foolishly put his seal of approval on it. After all, how could Severus maintain his double agency if he did not carry out this murder?

Severus chuckled to himself. The noble Gryffindor had looked at him with his blasted twinkling eyes, and had ordered him to cast the Killing Curse if and when Draco failed to do so. Little did Dumbledore know at the time that the action would put Severus in even more danger than he had been while playing both sides. Severus had known, but he'd said nothing. Why else would such a powerless boy have been assigned the murder, if not in the knowledge that he would be unable to do it? Now, Severus had "succeeded" where his darker master had failed; rather than be pleased that the old codger was dead, the Dark Lord was more than likely enveloped with jealous anger that one of his nameless servants had succeeded where he had so often failed.

However, with Dumbledore out of the way, and Harry Blasted Potter now left without a source of guidance, the war was about to come to an end, and someone was going to come out on top. Whoever it was that won, Severus cared not; neither would save him from the end of his miserable existence. Had he still had his wand, Severus would have turned it against himself already, rather than sit here waiting for someone else to come and do it. Who would it be? Bellatrix? Wormtail? The Dark Lord himself? The curiosity was not enough to keep Severus from drifting into a dreamless sleep.

He barely had time to react when the door slamming open shook him from his slumber. Instinctively, he went for the wand in the pocket of his robes, but it was not there, something he realized too late to prevent looking rather foolish groping for his absent weapon. A dim light flooded the room, and a familiar figure stood before him, no wand in sight, looking him over with a smirk.

"You look surprised to see me, old friend," the man observed to the gaunt prisoner standing defenseless before him.

"Lucius," Severus growled. "I thought they had you locked up in Azkaban."

Lucius Malfoy surveyed the room, drawing his wand and flicking it about silently, causing dim lights to bathe the walls. With each flick, Severus waited for the one that contained the Killing Curse, but the Unforgivable never came. Instead, it seemed that Lucius had set about converting the prison cell into a room, Vanishing the chamber pot and the cracked plate onto which stale bread had been appearing at irregular intervals since Severus had arrived.

Finally satisfied with his work, Lucius pocketed the wand and took a seat in one of the two dark green armchairs before a newly lit fire, and motioned for Severus to occupy the other. Severus took a good look at his newly Transfigured surroundings. It was actually well decorated for a cell, he thought with a scowl. In addition to the armchairs, the room contained a four-poster bed with green sheets, a wardrobe made of dark wood, and several empty bookcases. Everything was green with black and silver accents, but little else could be expected in a house full of Slytherins.

After watching his friend's reverie for a moment, Lucius finally spoke. "They did, but I was lucky enough to have some good friends come and see to my release. How they got in, I do not know; but here I am, and here you are."

"You have come to kill me." Severus stared into Lucius' eyes, his tone dark yet resigned.

His surmising was met with a great roar of laughter from the older man. "Do you really think so, Severus? What would make you think such a thing, especially after all of this work I've just done to make you more comfortable?"

"Clearly the Dark Lord is angry with me, or else he would not have hunted me and your son so; nor would he have locked me in here with no wand." Severus' body and face remained tense as Lucius settled back more comfortably into his seat.

"I assure you, the hunting was more for Draco than you. You would have been better off separating yourself from him, though I am sure your feelings of obligation to me kept you from doing so." Lucius chuckled. "You have spent too much time with Gryffindors and Mudbloods, I think, to have stopped putting your own neck first."

"Draco was assigned his task as a punishment to you, Lucius; yet now you are here alive, and he has been hunted down like an animal. I do not understand." Feeling that Lucius was not here to kill him just yet, Severus finally allowed himself to relax imperceptibly.

"I have repented for my failures, and am of far more use to the Dark Lord than my miserable son. He will pay for his inadequacy in time, I think. Brandy?" Lucius drew his wand again and conjured two glasses full of amber liquid, and took small sips from one.

Severus hesitantly raised the other to his lips and, detecting no sign of poison, took a drink. "I take it you feel no remorse for his peril?"

Lucius exploded with another great laugh. "Try though I did to raise him properly to his heritage, he is weak; for my own sake, it is best to divorce myself from his ineptitude, son or not."

"Interesting," Severus muttered, taking another drink from his glass, nearly draining it as he relished the burning sensation of the alcohol coursing down his throat.

"As for you; yes, the Dark Lord was not pleased that you succeeded where he failed, but you are of greater use to him as his servant than his victim. Soon, you shall have your wand back, and be rewarded for your service." Lucius smiled darkly at his friend.

"Indeed?" Severus asked with a raised eyebrow. "And how am I to be rewarded?"

Draining his glass and tapping it with his wand to refill it again, Lucius replied, "It has not yet been decided, but I am sure it will be well worth the wait." Emptying the glass again, Lucius rose from his seat. "And now, if you will excuse me, I must meet with the Dark Lord to discuss the dispatch of yet another Gryffindor. I hope to see you soon."

"As do I," Severus responded with relief.

Lucius turned to the door, but turned back to face Severus. "Oh, and do try to make yourself more presentable, my friend." He flicked his wand at another door on the opposite side of the room that clicked open to reveal a bathroom. "You're a mess." With that, he strode off, closing the exit behind him.

Severus walked to the bathroom and surveyed himself in the mirror. He was, in fact, a complete mess, and set about cleaning himself and dressing in the new robes that had appeared when Lucius had transformed the darkness into a somewhat comfortable room.

--

In a castle far away in the wilderness of Scotland, another person sat, pondering the outcome of the war. Hermione Granger, slightly groggy from the long day and the fantastic start of term feast, reclined on her bed in the Head Girl's room with a book. She was determined to finish the potions tome before beginning classes the next day, hoping that she could cram enough knowledge into her brain to be of use to the Order of the Phoenix in defeating Voldemort.

Gods, the summer had been difficult. Harry had been running hither and thither in search of information about the remaining Horcuxes, and the location of Lord Voldemort. He usually kept silent about what he had gathered, but even without hearing it from his own lips, Hermione knew that he was greatly wearied, and not quite himself. At the end of their sixth year, it had seemed that Harry was willing to accept Ron and Hermione's help in looking for the Horcruxes, and that they were going to stick together, but that dream quickly faded away. Once he had visited with the Dursleys and returned to Order headquarters, he became secretive, withdrawn. Try as Hermione and Ron did to remind him that they were in this together, he insisted on going it alone and sneaking out in the middle of the night. Eventually, Hermione and Ron gave up trying to follow him. He wanted to do this task without them.

Thus, Hermione had been shocked when her attempts to convince him to return to Hogwarts had succeeded. Why he acquiesced, Hermione had no idea, but perhaps he hoped that returning to Hogwarts would bring him closer to Dumbledore. He seemed desperately in need of the dead Headmaster's guidance, and there was no one else who seemed qualified to provide it in his absence.

Though the world seemed far darker than it had before, in light of the impending resolution of the battle between good and evil, Hogwarts remained rather the same. There were some different faces at the Head Table. Professor McGonagall had to leave her role as Transfiguration professor to assume her duties as Headmistress, so her teaching was taken over by a Professor O'Brian. Professor O'Brian was a lean, middle-aged woman with long graying hair and somber robes. She looked like she had not had a good laugh in quite some time, and Hermione mused to herself that she looked and behaved a bit like a younger McGonagall. Remus Lupin had returned to his former position as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor since Professor Snape's betrayal and flight. McGonagall had tried to get Professor Slughorn to remain as Potions professor, but with all that had been going on, his Slytherin self-preservation got the best of him, and he refused to risk his life any further. This forced her to appoint a very young man, Professor Caveo, to the position.

Caveo was something of an enigma to Hermione when she looked at him. Like Snape, he wore black robes and an unpleasant expression. He was much better looking than Snape, and his kind blue eyes seemed out of place on his scowling face. Throughout dinner that evening, he had very pointedly avoided speaking with his new colleagues, but his gaze had wandered all around the room, looking as though he were studying each student and memorizing their faces. When Hermione had felt his gaze upon her, it had made her uneasy, and she had attempted to use a sip of pumpkin juice to hide her discomfort.

Other troubles faced Hermione in her seventh year apart from passing N.E.W.T.s, facing the war, and figuring out her new professors: over the summer, Ron Weasley had professed his love to her. Well, not quite in so many words, but in his clumsy way he had made it clear to Hermione that he wanted to be more than friends. Much more.

Hermione had been taken aback, though not entirely surprised, by his desires. After all, the tragedies they had been facing had brought them closer together, so close that many thought they could hear wedding bells in their future. Hermione had wanted to be a good friend to Ron, to comfort him and be comforted by him through the hardships they were facing. She knew, however, that while that kind of support and love was a great foundation for a friendship, it wasn't necessarily the kind of foundation she wanted for a relationship. She had not wanted to hurt his feelings, but the truth was that, though she loved him like a brother, she didn't want to pursue anything more serious with him than what they already had together. The fights, Ron's constant need for Hermione's help with any task he had to complete, his lack of appreciation for her scholarly pursuits; this was not the way that Hermione wanted to spend her life. She needed something more. She loved Ron, but ultimately it was not enough to make her sacrifice so much of herself to make it work.

If she made it through this war alive, Hermione vowed, she would never settle for anything less than the perfect man. She knew that her hunger for knowledge was looked upon as amusing or even distasteful by the members of the opposite sex, and she would not have her skill be seen as a novelty or an unfortunate accident. She wanted to be accepted for who she was, challenged in intelligence, loved for her curiosity. Her perfect man would do all of these things, and when the dust settled, she was going to find him.

Chuckling at the unlikelihood of either surviving or of finding the man of her dreams, Hermione relaxed onto the bed and fell into a light sleep, the book she had been reading lying open, face down, on her chest.

No sooner had sleep overtaken her that she found herself floating in a familiar dream, one she had been having since the battle at Hogwarts at the end of last term. In it, she stood behind Albus Dumbledore as he faced Severus Snape's wand. Hermione, of course, did not actually know exactly what had transpired between the two wizards that horrible night, months ago; her imagination had run wild with ideas nonetheless.

The dream was always the same: the two men had stood in the middle of a great expanse of darkness with no light around them to indicate where they stood. Snape was dressed in full Death Eater regalia, and his mask clung to his features so tightly that it seemed to move in tandem with his face. Dumbledore was prostrate on the ground in front of him, begging for his life and the life of Harry Potter.

"Please, Severus, spare me, spare the boy, spare our savior, spare us all! Do what is right, Severus. You're not one of them!" There was fury in the Headmaster's twinkling eyes.

"I do not know who I am anymore!" the professor screamed, tightening his grasp on his wand. "But I do know that I can show no mercy!" With those words, and with a look of intense hatred on his severe features, Severus Snape cast the Avada Kedavra on the defenseless older wizard.

With no control over her dream self, Hermione felt her body glide over to the body of the Headmaster. She knew he was dead, but felt no shock when his eyes snapped open and regarded her with calm reassurance. "You must forgive him, Ms Granger, for he knows not what he does."

With one last piercing stare, his eyelids fluttered shut, and Hermione was pulled back to the dark and familiar confines of her room.

She shook sleep from her head. She was used to standing before Snape, his mask almost glowing red with evil, and she was used to watching him kill the Headmaster. She would always walk to Dumbledore's side and gaze down at him, weeping. But never in the countless nights that she'd had the dream had he opened his eyes and spoken to her.

She hated her subconscious self as she reached for the wand under her pillow and flicked it silently to turn on the lights in her room. Why must her unruly mind give her such hope that the Headmaster could speak to her from beyond the grave? And why on earth would that same comforting voice tell her to forgive the monster of a man who had taken away the life of the one man who she felt could make all the chaos her world was now experiencing better?

Hermione rubbed at her temples. Monster? Perhaps she had been hanging around Ron too much, because she was starting to sound like him. Once they had left school, Hermione had tried to convince Harry, Ron, and many other members of the Order not to jump to conclusions about Snape without all of the facts. It was difficult to maintain that position, however, when even Professor McGonagall was convinced of Snape's guilt. More often than she would like, Hermione found herself believing all of them that Snape was evil. She was becoming resigned to accepting that, if no one else was going to be convinced to examine the situation more rationally, perhaps she should stop trying and just accept that Snape was a vicious murderer.

Hermione refused to return to sleep that evening. To do so would be to tempt the dream again, and she could not face the eyes of Headmaster Dumbledore. She could not face all of her questions about Dumbledore and Snape, and quite frankly she had grown sick of trying to answer them in the face of such determined opposition from her friends and teachers.

Resolved to ignore the dream, Hermione summoned another book from her shelves - _Wandless Magic: A Primer_. She had purchased the book after the last term had ended in an effort to ensure that if she should find herself wandless in the face of danger, she would still be able to fight. She had always shown skill with nonverbal spells, and she felt that there was at least no harm in trying to take it to the next level. She had seen few use this talent, and those she had seen were quite powerful wizards like Dumbledore. Maybe she was no Dumbledore, but she was determined to try it nonetheless.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" she spoke clearly, focusing on a piece of parchment on her nightstand, and waving her hand with determination. The parchment shuddered but did not rise, and she repeated the incantation over and over again, almost meditative in her intent to move it. She tried repeatedly for an hour, succeeding only in knocking it off the table.

"That's something," she muttered, before reaching for a potions book she had taken from the library earlier that evening: _Dark Potions and the Intent That Binds Them_.


	2. Inferior Decorators

_A/N: Many thanks to one of the world's most wonderful beta readers, anogete, for all of her help with this chapter. _

_Obligatory: None of these things belong to me; they all belong to JKR. I just like to have a bit of fun with them, and no profit is desired._

--

Whether it was sheer lunacy or not, Severus Snape had found himself slumbering almost peacefully that night in the Slytherin-colored four-poster bed. The room was not freezing, but neither was it warm, and he welcomed the soft comfort of the fabric that enveloped his thin body. Lucius had his chance to kill him, after all, and if one of the more ruthless Death Eaters had decided to spare him for at least one more evening, there was some reason to hope that perhaps he could make it out of this room alive.

Looking around the room as he awakened in the morning, he noticed that it was lighter than he had seen it since he had been there. He was shocked to see that windows seemed to have appeared out of nowhere on the once black walls. Sunlight bathed his surroundings, and though he was not immediately sure if the image he beheld was really the true outside world or merely an enchantment, it was a foreign concept to him to be relieved by the sight of the sun. Could this new light be a promise for his continued existence, miserable as it had been? Could he now choose his path and be committed to it, in intent as well as deed, with no one pressuring him to pursue anything other than his heart's desire?

He roared with laughter at this ridiculous notion. His heart's desire? He didn't even have a heart, nor any desire to fill it. He was Severus Snape, cruel taskmaster of the Hogwarts dungeons, murderous Death Eater and Order spy. He no more had desire than Neville Longbottom had skill in potions! When was the last time he had made a decision for himself, one not guided by the demands of his two ruthless masters? No, there was no hope in the sunlight; there was only the promise of more unpleasantness to come.

Shaken from his reverie by the reality of his situation, he drew his sore and weary body from the bed and set about preparing himself for the day. Since his visit from Lucius, he knew it was only a matter of time before more people came to the door. Perhaps Wormtail would come and kick him to death, Muggle violence the only skill he possessed, or maybe Bellatrix would come and taunt his manhood. He could at least do them the courtesy of being clean and dressed for their mockery.

After exiting the bathroom, Severus frowned slightly as the rumble in his stomach and the loose fit of his trousers signaled that he had long been without proper nourishment. He would be of no use with his power sapped from him by hunger, even if he did manage to make it out of this room alive. If that power were diminished, he would certainly be murdered for his uselessness. That would not do. He had not come this far for that to happen.

As if on cue at that thought, the door clicked open, and before him stood Bellatrix Lestrange, dressed in tight black robes, her eyes betraying the madness that lurked inside her head.

"Ah, Bellatrix, how wonderful to see you again," he exclaimed with mock courtesy, bowing his head slightly and surveying her with thinly veiled amusement.

"I assure you it has not been long enough since we last saw one another, Snape," she snapped, the fire in her voice not at all diminished since the last time he had been forced to endure her company.

"Pity, I thought this was a social call." He relaxed into one of the armchairs by the now cold fireplace. "Come to dispose of me, then?"

"Much though that would delight me, I have come to fetch you." She did not move from the open door and glared at him with a murderous fury.

"That seems more like a task for a common house-elf to me, dear Bellatrix. Has your favor with the Dark Lord really sunk so low?" He chuckled to himself and waited for her enflamed response.

"If you give me any trouble, Snape, I have full authority to hex you to the next world, so I suggest you come along quietly if you expect the Dark Lord's leniency." She crossed her arms over her chest and dared him to defy her.

"Very well." His black eyes glittered with a dark humor as he rose and moved to the door. He was halted as she grasped the limp flesh between his thighs through his trousers. "See something you like, Bellatrix?"

She only squeezed her hand tighter and growled, "This is my little way of reminding you quite literally of your situation. I have you by the balls this time." She released him and chuckled. "Though I doubt very much that you have any use for them."

He made to slap her, but he thought better of it. He cursed himself for even thinking of giving into her usual baiting methods and allowing his pride to run away from him. "Now, now, Bellatrix, let us not keep the Dark Lord waiting due to your baser instincts." He sneered at her.

"Remove yourself from this room before I do it for you." She glared at him as he moved around her.

Once in the hall, Severus realized that he had no idea where he was. There had been many bases of operations for the Dark Lord, but this was one to which he was not accustomed. He waited for Bellatrix to walk in front of him before moving any further into the manor.

They strode in silence through several corridors, and Severus got the distinct feeling that she was pursuing this maze-like route in an effort to ensure that he would not be able to remember the path himself. Her assumption was only a testament to her arrogance, for his many years as a spy had taught his memory to hold onto every detail of his surroundings, and he knew that if he wanted to turn around and find his way back to his room now, he could.

Finally, he found himself before a large wooden door, accented by an ornamented frame. He grimaced at the gold and crimson trim around it, and realized that though the Death Eaters' members were predominately Slytherin, there was at least one Gryffindor mongrel there who saw fit to remind the others of his house.

As though reading his thoughts, Bellatrix waved her wand at the doorframe and the gold and crimson were replaced with black and green. Under her breath, she muttered, "Filthy Gryffindor trash," before waving her wand again and causing the door to open.

Snape had to admit his surprise at entering what he assumed was the Dark Lord's audience chamber. It was quite large and boasted old and intricate tapestries on the walls, all featuring dark scenes from various mythologies. The ceiling had gilded moldings and the floor was covered with a magnificent green rug. Impressive as it was, there was little furniture save a table with a few chairs off to his right and a throne-like chair in the middle.

On that chair sat a thoroughly pleased-looking wizard with piercing red eyes.

"My Lord," Severus muttered, lowering himself in respect before his now one and only master.

"Come closer, Severus," Voldemort hissed, "and pay me proper tribute."

Needing no further encouragement, Severus rose, never meeting Voldemort's gaze, and strode over to the throne, throwing himself before him and kissing the hem of his robes. After he retreated a few steps, he knelt on the ground, his billowing robes surrounding him and framing his subservient posture.

"Bellatrix, you may leave us alone now. Please return in an hour that you may express, as well as you are able, the extent of your devotion to me." Though Severus could not see his face, he could sense the carnal urging of his master's words, and he shuddered as the door closed, leaving him alone with his fate.

The two wizards remained quiet for a few moments before a shrill "Crucio!" shot through the air, sending agonizing waves through Severus' body. He did not allow himself to give into the pain, and remained calmly kneeling before Voldemort. "Crucio!" he intoned again, though he never allowed the torture to last long enough to cause permanent damage.

After several minutes like this, the torture stopped, and he could hear Voldemort chuckle. "Do you know why I have punished you, Severus?"

"I have failed you, my Lord." He maintained complete honesty in his raspy voice.

"Yes, and fortunately for you, you are hardly the only one. You may relax, for if I killed everyone who has done so, there would hardly be a Death Eater around to bow before me." Severus felt him move closer and place a booted foot beneath his chin. "Certainly you know what it is like to work so hard to train others to your satisfaction, only to have them fail miserably, Severus?" He forced Severus to look up at him with one swift jerk of his boot.

"It has been my job these past years to suffer such disappointment, my Lord." He didn't dare offer more words than were absolutely necessary.

"How do you manage it, Severus?" he asked rhetorically. "For so long you work to instill important values in those beneath you, preparing them to do the tasks required of them. And yet, when the time comes, no one can manage to ensure your resurrection, bring you a mere boy, or a prophecy, or rain down death on a decrepit old wizard. Have you any idea how frustrating that is?"

"Certainly my disappointments have been nothing compared to the failings with which your faithful servants have burdened you, my Lord." Severus lazily maintained eye contact with Voldemort, allowing him into his mind enough to see his murder of Albus Dumbledore through the barriers of Occlumency.

"You are blessed with the skill of fine observations, Severus," he stated, firmly kicking Snape's face to the side with his boot and returning to his throne. "While I am grateful for your accomplishment, surely you did not believe you would get away without facing the consequences of defying me, did you? Crucio!"

Pain settled over Severus again, and though his eyes faced the ground once again, he did not dare to grimace outwardly and betray his weakness.

Several minutes later, the torture ceased, and Severus found a wand thrust in his face. At first, he prepared for his life to be ended, however the familiar aura of his own wand rushed through him. "You may take it," Voldemort breathed with exasperation above him.

"You are most gracious, my Lord," Severus admitted without a trace of emotion in his voice as he pocketed his wand and bent low at the waist before his master again.

"You would do well to remember that before you defy me again. Have you learned your lesson?"

"You are an exemplary teacher, my Lord." Severus reveled in the comfort of his wand as he groveled at Voldemort's feet.

"Rise that I might tell you of my plans for you, boy." Severus stood, and Voldemort continued. "You have never held much use to me, save your skill with potions and your position at Hogwarts, but now that you have seen fit to make it impossible to continue spying on the Order, you will have to resume making potions for me. Another room has been added to your suite for you to begin brewing, and I will assign to Wormtail the task of ensuring that your stocks are full. If he displeases you, do inform me before dealing with him."

"I would not deny you the pleasure, my Lord. What potions am I to brew?" He dared to look into Voldemort's eyes.

"Patience, my old friend. You will know more in time. For now, I need you to prepare simple things like healing potions for our comrades when they are injured in battle, and Veritaserum for when an enemy falls into our hands. I will decide whether or not to trust you with more at a later time." He settled back in the chair and cracked the knuckles of his own hand in relaxation.

"I hope to please you with my work, my Lord." Severus fell forward to kiss Voldemort's robes again before straightening himself back onto his feet.

"I shall have Lucius give you the grand tour." Voldemort flicked his wand, and moments later, Lucius appeared in the room. "Do show Severus around, Lucius, that he might see all this house can offer us."

"Of course, my Lord. We shall take our leave." Lucius grabbed Severus by the elbow and made to move him out of the room.

"Oh, and Severus?" Voldemort called as they walked out, causing them to turn around and bow their heads. "I am pleased that the old man is dead, and in time you will be rewarded for your actions. Is there anything you desire?"

"Only to be in your service, my Lord. There is nothing greater to me." He raised his left arm and pressed the Dark Mark to his chest.

"I am sure I will think of something adequate. That will be all, gentlemen." He waved his hand at them in dismissal.

"My Lord," muttered Lucius and Severus as they turned and exited the room.

"It is agreeable to see you again, Lucius," Severus remarked casually as they began to make their way through the halls of the manor. Occasionally they would encounter another Death Eater, but the house was hardly bustling with activity.

"I told you that your life was safe here, Severus. However, it is good to see that you have relaxed somewhat. You must be hungry." Lucius chuckled at the growl coming from his friend's stomach.

"It has been a long time since I enjoyed a good meal," he admitted, willing his stomach to stop protesting about its emptiness.

"We will break our fast together momentarily, as in the old days, my friend, but first there is someone I thought you might like to visit." He smiled wickedly, and they both relaxed into their former friendship.

Severus laughed comfortably. "I hope you are not taking me to accept favors from Bellatrix, Lucius. I had hoped for no more punishment today."

Lucius' eyes gleamed with amusement. "I would not subject myself to her presence if not necessary either. No, we will find you a Mudblood tart if you desire release, and will not trouble you with the ministrations of Bellatrix." They rounded another corner and came to a door that radiated with the power of protective wards. "I thought you might like to visit The Cell."

Lucius flicked his wand several times and whispered a number of incantations before the door melted away to reveal the bars of a small cell. Inside of it sat a couple of cowering figures Severus did not recognize, but closest to the bars was a young, blonde-haired man, Draco Malfoy.

Lucius pointed his wand at his son. "Come and say hello to your old Head of House, Draco."

Draco's robes were torn, dirty, and smeared with blood. His hair clung to the sweat on his gaunt face, the features of which were twisted into a hateful scowl. "No," he replied simply.

"You will show respect to your elders, my son. Have I taught you nothing?" Lucius thrust his wand a few inches forward.

"I have no desire to show either of you respect, Father," he spat out, looking away from the men standing on the other side of the bars.

"Imperio," cast Lucius lazily before manipulating Draco magically to rise and walk towards him. Maintaining the curse, he used his free hand to grab Draco by the hair and press his face to the bars. "Manners, Draco."

"I thought he would be dead by now, Lucius," Severus mused, eyeing the arrogant young wizard powerless before him. "Why has his life been spared?"

"He may prove useful at some point, I imagine. If his fate rested in my hands, trust me, I would not hesitate to end it. I had to endure much pain for his incompetence when I was freed from Azkaban." As though tired of this amusement, Lucius dropped the Imperius curse on his son, causing Draco to scurry to the back of the cell. "Do enjoy your stay, Draco. I do not know when I shall see you again."

Lucius laughed as he and Severus stepped back. Lucius used his wand to return the wards to the cell and replace the bars with the door and wall that had been there before. "Now, my old friend, let us have something to eat, and you can tell me all about how you have fared this last year."

Some time later, after an elegant meal, Severus was returned to his room, and the wards that had been placed on it to restrain him were released, giving him leave to secure the room of his own accord.

"You may find remnants of Wormtail's cheek in the decorations, Severus, as we were unable to scour everything in the house for Gryffindor colors, but I trust you will correct it. It has become something of a game for us. Wormtail reminds us of his house, we discover his treachery, and then we hex him. I think he takes some kind of pride in the punishment," Lucius had told him before leaving him alone to see that the room suited his tastes.

As Voldemort had promised, another door had appeared in the room that led to a small laboratory. One advantage of his days at Hogwarts had been his proximity to a large and well-stocked potions laboratory, but this would have to do for the time being. The Dark Lord wanted potions, and it was Severus' job to see that he got them. He set about organizing the room

Over their breakfast conversation, Severus realized that, even without his presence at Hogwarts, the Death Eaters had managed to get a great deal of information on the goings on there. They were investigating the weaknesses in the castle and getting as much background as possible on any students who may prove to be a problem, specifically the close associates of Potter like the Weasleys and the Granger girl.

He wondered why he had been forced to play double agent for all of those years, when it seemed that information flowed into the Death Eater headquarters whether he was surrounded by those witless dunderheads or not. All that time wasted as a double agent, as a teacher, as a confidant of all, and it seemed he really was as disposable as the younger Malfoy.

With that disconcerting thought, Severus decided that a drink was in order before he was faced with any more of his old Slytherin friends.


	3. It's All In His Head

_A/N: Many thanks go out to my wonderful beta, anogete, for her hard work on this chapter. Thanks also to my lovely readers and reviewers, all of whom give me the courage to keep posting!_

_Obligatory: None of these things belong to me; they all belong to JKR. I just like to have a bit of fun with them, and no profit is desired. _

--

At breakfast on the first day of classes, Hermione eyed Harry with suspicion as he rubbed his forehead absentmindedly, a grimace quirking at the corners of his mouth.

"I thought that had stopped," she whispered, looking around to see if anyone else noticed. The only other person who seemed to be paying any attention was Ron, though he was largely concerned with stuffing food into his mouth.

"I thought so, too, but for some reason Voldemort has seen fit to stop blocking me out." Harry abandoned the rubbing briefly to try to force himself to eat.

"Have you not been practicing your Occlumency?" Hermione frowned as Harry nodded a guilty no. "Harry, you must! What if he finds out about the Horcruxes? That won't do at all!"

"So what if he does find out about them? There are only two left, and with any luck I'll find them before he finds me." Harry stabbed the sausage on his plate in an attempt to distract himself from the burning in his forehead.

"Which ones are left?" Ron decided that now was the time to interrupt before Hermione's righteous fury got the best of her.

"I'm not quite sure now. Dumbledore thought Nagini might be one, and then something of Gryffindor's or Ravenclaw's. I have no idea what it could be, though." Harry quit fighting and returned to rubbing his scar.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence between the three friends at the mention of Dumbledore and the discussion of the Horcruxes, a topic Ron and Hermione knew it was best not to dwell on with Harry, for it usually ended with him storming off in anger.

"Erm, so… anyone know anything about the new Potions professor?" Ron cleared his throat and hoped that his topic change would successfully end the discomfort they were feeling.

"McGonagall's made him Head of Slytherin House, but I haven't heard much else about him. He seemed a bit odd at the feast, though." Hermione thought back to his uncomfortable stares.

"What is it with these Potions masters being Slytherins? Don't any of them like Transfiguration or Charms or something?" Ron glared up at Professor Caveo, who seemed to be ignoring everyone as he quietly sipped his coffee.

"It's really the only other field that lends itself readily to dark things, I'd imagine," Harry commented, rubbing his scar more persistently.

"Well," Hermione interrupted, looking at her watch, "speaking of Potions, I suppose we'd better get to the dungeons."

"Wonderful," Ron muttered, stuffing one last forkful of food in his mouth and picking up his bag.

The class was whispering amongst themselves when Professor Caveo swept into the room and slammed the door. All of the students abruptly stopped speaking at the sound, and were all reminded of a certain former Potions master who had begun classes in a similar way. Ron and Harry both let out irritated sighs, but Hermione dutifully picked up her quill and sat poised to begin taking notes.

Caveo was tall and, once again, wore all black robes. The long brown hair that had been hanging around his shoulders at breakfast was now tied neatly behind his head, straining his handsome yet forbidding features. His searching blue eyes surveyed the class with grim satisfaction as all looked at him with some trepidation.

"As you no doubt know," Caveo began as he paced in front of the class, "my name is Professor Eli Caveo, new Head of Slytherin House and your Potions master for the remainder of your time at Hogwarts. I have reviewed the lesson plans of my predecessors from previous N.E.W.T. classes and have decided, in consultation with the Headmistress, to change the curriculum somewhat. In light of recent events, we both feel that it would be most beneficial for you all to acquaint yourselves with extremely dark potions in the event that you should find yourself faced with one."

Beside Hermione, Ron groaned, "They're all Slytherin and they're all obsessed with dark magic. Aren't any of them normal?"

Hermione shot Ron an irritated look and went back to listening to Professor Caveo.

Caveo pointed to a cauldron in front of him that was full of a boiling dark green liquid that smelled like vomit and emitted a thick brown smoke. "Can anyone tell me what this is?" Hermione predictably raised her hand. "Yes, Miss Granger, is it?"

Hermione took a nervous gulp of air. "Yes, sir. That's a Burning Potion, and when someone is doused with it, they show no outward signs of damage, but are slowly tortured by the feeling of the affected skin being on fire." She shivered and stared at the cauldron.

"Correct, Miss Granger. I would like you to turn to page fifteen of your texts and begin work on the antidote. At the end of class, you will all test the effectiveness of your potion on yourselves. I warn you that permanent damage can be done to the nerves by the Burning Potion if the antidote is not administered quickly, so I suggest you take extra care in preparing it."

All of the students looked at each other warily as they eyed the disgusting liquid in the cauldron, and then imagined fearfully the consequences of failing the assignment.

"He's mad, he is," Ron whispered as they collected the ingredients listed in the book. "What kind of class is this?"

From behind them, the voice of Professor Caveo came low and threatening. "This is a practical class, Mr. Weasley. You must all learn the effects of the potions you may no doubt come in contact with at the hands of dark wizards. Five points from Gryffindor for questioning the teaching of a professor."

"Sorry, sir," Ron muttered, quickly deciding to hate Professor Caveo without reserve.

The class went about quietly preparing the antidote, a rather difficult potion that required nearly a dozen carefully prepared ingredients. Caveo watched on from his desk with wicked delight, glancing at the boiling brew that sat in front of him every time someone looked up to meet his gaze.

"He's absolutely barking mad!" Ron gasped for about the fiftieth time that day as he sat studying with Harry and Hermione in the Gryffindor common room later that evening.

"He's right, though," Hermione stated calmly as she practiced wand movements for Charms.

"What do you mean he's right? I can still feel a bit of a tingle in my hand from that blasted Burning Potion. He practically tortured us with that stuff, Hermione! He's even more sadistic than…" He broke off, looking hesitantly at Harry, who was buried in a Defense Against the Dark Arts text.

"It's okay, you can say it," Harry growled, slamming the book shut and staring at the ceiling. "I am not going to sit here and sulk every time you mention Snape. He'll get what's coming to him, and it's going to come from me, if I have anything to say about it."

Ignoring Harry's determination to bestow a horrible death on Snape, Hermione looked up at Ron. "He's not sadistic, Ron, he's absolutely right. Do you think curses are the only thing Voldemort has at his disposal? No. And now that Snape is back with him, he will surely be brewing things just like the potion we saw today."

"You seem awfully determined to defend him, Hermione. Taking a liking to Slytherins now?" Ron's jealousy at her every mention of another man since she had spurned his affections that summer was growing more infuriated with every week that passed.

"Honestly, Ronald, don't you read?" Not waiting for his obvious response, she continued. "First of all, his teaching methods aside for the moment, I happen to know that Caveo is an absolutely brilliant scholar. I've been reading some of his theoretical articles on Potions, and it's obvious that he's incredibly intelligent and talented. As for the rest, yes, I think he's right. We need to be prepared for everything, and if that means my hand has to feel like it's burning from time to time, I am perfectly willing to accept that. I would advise you both to do the same."

"She's right, Ron, so shut up about it," Harry groaned as he began rubbing his scar again.

"Honestly, Harry, you need to work on your Occlumency. This is ridiculous!" Hermione was exasperated.

"I know, Hermione, I know. It's just strange. This morning he was absolutely furious, and now he's happy. Really happy. The way this man cycles through emotions, I think it would do him good to see a Muggle therapist." Harry's gaze settled thoughtfully on the fire in front of them.

"Still, I don't see what good it does you to keep experiencing his emotions, Harry. It's only going to get you in trouble. He could be reading your thoughts right now!"

"Hermione, please, stop it. What's he going to see? That I accidentally turned a pigeon into a toad today instead of a chicken? That my dinner tasted good? That I can't work out what the last Horcrux is? Trust me, there isn't anything exciting there for him." Harry narrowed his eyes at Hermione before softening his expression. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I've just got a lot on my mind right now, and I would hope that the two of you are on my side."

"Of course we are, Harry. How could you think otherwise?" Hermione reached out to pat his hand, forcing another scowl from Ron.

"I know you are. So why don't you show it and stop fighting with me and each other? We all need to be together now more than ever." Harry's eyes darted between Hermione, who was still regarding him with concern, and Ron, who now sat with his arms crossed over his chest in haughty annoyance.

"You're right, Harry. I'm sorry. We'll try to be good, won't we, Ron?" She gave Ron a wry smile.

"Absolutely," Ron replied, though his tone was less than convincing.

"Good. Now, I'm knackered, so I'm going to bed. I'll see you both at breakfast." Harry made for his room, followed by Ron.

Hermione sat with her thoughts for a moment before going to her room to practice wandless magic. That night, her determination caused the parchment to fly almost immediately into her hands, and she was quite pleased.

She had fallen asleep with a text on Legilimency open in her hands. All summer, in addition to tireless N.E.W.T. revision, she had been learning about any and every weapon they would need in battle. She was mainly hoping to master a more obscure branch of Legilimency, Silent Speech (which older texts referred to as Pseudo Legilimency Minor), which would allow her to talk to her companions in the event of a struggle. Now that Harry's scar was burning so persistently, however, she hoped to use the information in the books to persuade him to let her help him with Occlumency.

Once again, she was standing before Snape and Dumbledore when the Killing Curse was fired, only this time she could see Harry standing motionless, regarding the scene. Though he was perfectly still, his eyes burned with hatred and rage, the same rage with which they had been filled all summer when he would explain, at great length, what he would do to Snape if he found him.

Hermione strode towards the lifeless body of the former Headmaster and looked down at him, trembling as she surveyed him.

Abruptly, his twinkling eyes opened. "It's all in his head, Miss Granger. It's all in his head," he insisted quietly as he motioned with his gaze towards Harry.

"What do you mean, Headmaster?" she muttered into the darkness of her room. She sighed deeply. She was far too tired to skip sleeping again, but she had no idea what to make of what Dumbledore had said. Hermione laughed at herself. What did she think, that he was actually speaking to her in her dreams? Nonsense. Dreams are just a manifestation of things already in our thoughts, so what would the statement possibly mean to her? What was in Harry's head?

"What exactly is in my head?" she mumbled into her pillow. "And why am I talking to myself? Out loud? Good Merlin, I've lost my marbles!" With one last laugh at herself, she drifted back into sleep, a sleep that was thankfully unhampered by the undead sending her ridiculous messages about Snape and Harry.

The next Monday found all of them much the same. Harry was still rubbing his scar, Ron was still cursing Caveo ("and the two foot long parchment on the Hive Potion he rode in on!"), and Hermione was still immersed in the study of anything and everything magical on which she could get her increasingly powerful hands. She hadn't told anyone, but she had now mastered Summoning and Banishing charms without her wand. It wasn't as if she had time to tell anyone if she'd wanted to, of course, as every spare breath was spent defending Professor Caveo, whom she'd come to like, occasionally speaking with him after class and prodding him into getting her a pass to remove books from the Restricted Section of the library.

"Something of Gryffindor's or Ravenclaw's…" Harry muttered at his breakfast.

"Harry, look, I know you don't want to hear it, but I really think we should work on your Occlumency. Please consider it?" Hermione eyed him with sisterly concern.

"What do you mean, 'we'?" Harry asked as he glanced at her cautiously.

"I mean I will help you. I studied Legilimency over the summer, and while I haven't exactly tried it yet, I'm sure I could be of enough use to at least help a little." She sighed at his look of apprehension. "Honestly, Harry, I already know most of the bad things in your head. Don't you think it's worth at least a try?"

Harry thought for a moment before relenting. "Okay, I will try if it means that much to you. Just promise me one thing, okay?" he implored before lowering his voice and glancing between Ginny and Ron, who were talking about Quidditch. "Don't tell anyone anything you see that might be… upsetting."

Hermione giggled. "I won't tell anyone, but if you try hard enough you might find that I won't be able to see them at all."

Harry laughed and chanced a glance at Ginny. "That sounds like motivation enough for me!"

Potions was as painful as ever as they brewed an antidote to a potion that would bring on anaphylactic shock. Hermione shook her head in exasperation as Ron muttered about what a lunatic Caveo was. The professor always had his own vials of the antidote on hand should anyone's potion fail to relieve them of the agony of the dark potion they were studying, though Ron insisted this was to prevent McGonagall from catching wind of the "bloody torture" he had inflicted on them in class.

That night, in her room, Hermione instructed Harry to clear his mind and bottle the edge of his emotions. He was clearly uncomfortable with these lessons, but Hermione was not about to give up when the fate of the Wizarding world probably rested on Harry being able to keep Voldemort out of his mind.

"Are you ready, then?" Hermione asked with a comforting smile.

"I suppose." Harry held his breath and looked at her as though she was about to give him an injection of something, but he nodded his head when she held up her wand.

Hermione took her own deep breath and cast, "Legilimens."

Suddenly, images from Harry's mind started flashing through her own, images of his confrontation with Professor Quirrell, his journey into the Chamber of Secrets, seeing Dumbledore with his shriveled hand clutching a ring, a threatening and hissing Nagini, finding the real Horcrux locket at Number 12 Grimmauld Place…

"Stop!" Harry gasped, rubbing his forehead in earnest.

Hermione couldn't speak. She initially hadn't been sure that she would be able to do Legilimency, but suddenly there she was, seeing into Harry's mind, seeing his thoughts of the Horcruxes, and it had almost overwhelmed her.

_It's all in his head_, she heard in her own thoughts, as she watched Harry trying to compose himself.

It's all in his head.

The Horcruxes.

All in his head.

"Good Merlin," she muttered to herself.

"What?" Harry demanded.

"Nothing, just… well, I did Legilimency! I didn't think I would be able to," she lied as she mulled over the uncomfortable thoughts she was having.

"Congratulations," he grunted. "I think I'm going to need to practice a bit more on my own, though. This was a fairly exhausting attempt, no offence."

"None taken," she replied, grinning. "I'll see you at breakfast, then?"

"Of course! Goodnight, Hermione." Harry left her room, still rubbing his forehead.

Hermione was left with her thoughts. Was it possible? Could the ever-elusive final Horcrux really be that obvious? Could it have been right there all along in Harry's scar? It started to make sense. No, it wasn't ideal putting it into a sentient being who had free will, but Voldemort had been desperate enough to make one out of Nagini, why not Harry? It may not have even been on purpose. He could have been planning to put it in something else after killing Harry, killing the boy who threatened him with a prophecy, but when the curse backfired, it could have implanted itself in the mysterious scar. After all, normally the Killing Curse left no external signs other than death, so certainly the scar must have some significance. Could it be the final piece of the Horcrux puzzle?

'Hold on a minute,' Hermione warned herself. 'I am getting these ideas from my dreams. I couldn't possibly know where a Horcrux could be."

_But it makes sense. It's all in his head_.

Hermione tossed and turned in her sleep that night, seeing Dumbledore's face, surrounded by the cloud of uncertain memories, over and over again as he urged her on, saying, "You've got it, Miss Granger. It's all in his head. You've got it."

If Dumbledore thought she'd got it, she certainly thought she'd lost it. Even if it did turn out to be true, she had no idea what to do with this information. Could she tell Harry that he would have to die to make sure that none of the Horcruxes ever got back to Voldemort? Or was there a way to destroy the Horcrux while leaving Harry's life intact?

Dumbledore would know. Before the thought even crossed her mind, she knew for sure that she'd gone mad. No matter. Everyone already thought she was mad.

Hermione had no more dreams for another couple of weeks, but her thoughts were still occupied with Harry's potential Horcrux scar. After classes one day, Hermione could take it no more and went to visit her old Head of House and present Headmistress in her office. She had always admired McGonagall, and even if she didn't think that she could explain her concerns to her, she thought she could at least get some perspective that she desperately needed.

"Stonehenge," she offered to the door of the Head office, and the gargoyles slid aside and allowed her up the stairs. Once there, she raised a tentative fist to the door and knocked quietly.

"Yes, come in, Miss Granger!" Hermione opened the door and stepped inside cautiously. "And how can I help the Head Girl this evening?"

"I'm sorry to bother you, Professor, but, well, I sort of needed to speak with you, but now I'm feeling a bit silly…" Hermione tried to control her rambling, but the words were coming out more quickly than she could control them. She glanced up at an empty portrait on the wall to her left.

"I think I know how you feel," McGonagall replied with a sigh, her own gaze following Hermione's.

"Sorry, Professor?" Hermione was shaken from her reverie by the unusually soft words of the Headmistress.

"I think you're here looking for answers, Miss Granger, about the confusion that's going on around us. You want to know if Harry will succeed, if we will win, but it seems that not even Dumbledore has the answers to those questions anymore." McGonagall took off her glasses and rubbed her nose.

Hermione wasn't sure if McGonagall had gone mad or if she was reading her mind. "Professor, where is Professor Dumbledore?"

McGonagall took a deep breath and examined Hermione before admitting to her next words. "He has been gone from the portrait for over a month, and before that he was always soundly asleep in the chair. I thought perhaps that he was skulking around the other portraits, but I've had all the ghosts and all the other portraits out looking for him, but he isn't anywhere. It's his duty as a former Headmaster to report to me when he's needed." At this, there were mumbles of agreement from the other portraits. " So I can only conclude that…"

"He's gone," Hermione finished. "But he said he would always be here so long as there were people at Hogwarts loyal to him."

"It is most troubling, to say the least. I simply can't explain why he wouldn't be here. I take it you were hoping to speak with him, Miss Granger?"

"I was, Professor, though I'm not sure what I really wanted to say to him. I suppose I just wanted to see him and see if that somehow made me feel any better." Hermione looked guiltily into her hands before continuing with the other reason for her visit. "Professor, may I ask you something rather personal? I understand if you won't answer."

"I will certainly consider your question. What's troubling you?" McGonagall peered at Hermione through the spectacles she had just placed back on her face.

"I suppose I was just wondering if you think about it, Professor, if you think about the night that Professor Dumbledore…that is to say, Professor Snape…" Hermione wrung her hands in embarrassment, suddenly wondering what it was that had brought her here in the first place.

"Of course I do, Miss Granger; I think that we all probably do. But that isn't quite what you wanted to ask me, is it?" McGonagall's stern expression softened considerably.

"Well, it's just that I don't really know what happened that night, Professor, and I suppose there's part of me that doesn't want to believe that it's real. I've been having these dreams about it, dreams I can't really understand." Hermione pressed her fingers to her eyes, trying to force the images from her dreams back from their usual place at the front of her mind.

"Tell me, Miss Granger, in your dreams, does Albus talk to you, or does Snape look like a mad, raving lunatic?" Hermione's eyebrow quirked at McGonagall's description of Professor Snape.

Hermione laughed, now a bit more at ease. "Both, actually. I suppose it just bothers me that the only account I have of it is from Harry, and he's not exactly unbiased."

McGonagall looked at Hermione for a moment before standing and walking to a cupboard behind her desk. From it, she retrieved a large box and set it down in front of the Head Girl before taking her seat again.

"Do you know what is in this box, Miss Granger?"

"No, Professor." She was, however, dying to know.

"This is Albus' Pensieve. Much though I loved him, I have little desire to wallow in the depths of his memories these days, but I do not want to get rid of something that was so important to him. I know that our little experiment with the Time Turner didn't work out so well for you, but I think that perhaps you could make better use of this." McGonagall shuffled some parchments on the desk.

"You're…you are giving me Professor Dumbledore's Pensieve?" Hermione was wide-mouthed with shock.

"That I am, Miss Granger. You have always been one of my best students, and I know that sometimes what we see and what the truth is are two entirely different things. Use it to search your dreams, or your classes, or what you will. I suspect that you will share it with Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley, as I believe that, things as they are now, they could do well with a little reflection. I would also like to give you this." McGonagall handed Hermione a vial full of a silvery substance.

"Is this a memory?" Hermione held the vial up to the light.

"It is from Aberforth, Albus' brother, from a conversation the two had shortly before the night of the attack. I know what is troubling you, Miss Granger, and I hope that perhaps this can settle some of your conflict."

Hermione regarded the two gifts for a moment before carefully placing the memory in the pockets of her robes and shrinking the Pensieve box, storing it in the other pocket. "Thank you for your candor and these gifts, Professor. I will certainly put them to good use. Good night, Headmistress."

"One more thing, Miss Granger," McGonagall called as Hermione turned to the door. "Professor Caveo has told me that you are quite gifted in Potions, and while it does not surprise me, you can imagine that this is the first I've heard of it. He understands that you are considering becoming a Potions mistress and has offered to assist you with more complex work outside of class. Would you be interested?"

Hermione's eyes glittered with pride and excitement. "I would be most interested, Professor. It would be an honor to work with Professor Caveo!"

"I shall set it up. Plan to be in his classroom tomorrow directly following dinner. Good night, Miss Granger."

"Good night, Professor."

In her room later that night, after telling Harry and Ron about her quasi-apprenticeship (about which Ron commented, "What, are you going to test the effectiveness of his latest disemboweling potion?"), she stared at the Pensieve and the memory McGonagall had given her. She had decided not to tell her friends about the gift just yet, selfishly wanting to see the memory and judge it for herself before involving any others in her treasure.

With a deep breath, she coaxed the thick memory into the bowl and hesitated a moment before diving in.

She found herself standing in a small room, occupied by a table and two elderly men seated on either side of it. One was Albus Dumbledore, and the other his brother, Aberforth, who was absentmindedly petting a goat sitting next to him. Hermione gasped when her eyes settled on Albus, though, as he looked world-weary and distraught, something she had never seen as a student at Hogwarts. It was obvious that the events going on around the time of this conversation were wearing him thin.

She moved closer to the table to listen to the brothers speaking.

"I just don't know what I am going to do about him, Aberforth. I knew that this time would come eventually, but I suppose that I hoped I could keep delaying the inevitable." Dumbledore took off his half-moon shaped spectacles and rubbed his nose, his eyes closed in despair.

"Surely you don't think he's turning?" Aberforth gasped incredulously.

"It happens little by little every day. I always knew that the dark was there, haunting him, but every time I am near him I can sense it more and more, and it wears on me."

Aberforth studied his brother. "Is there any saving him, if you're right?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "He was saved once. I do not know if I have the strength to see it done again."

"Hogwash, Albus! Would you really see him lost after all of this time? After everything he himself has lost?"

"You know I would not wish it, my brother, but despite what everyone thinks about my omnipotence, I am not all-powerful. It will ultimately be his choice." Dumbledore put his glasses back on and gazed into his glass of brandy thoughtfully.

"And you think he will choose the dark?" Aberforth cocked his eyebrow suspiciously.

"If it chooses him, his choice may only be giving into it, or death." Dumbledore took a deep swig of the drink.

"He's young yet, Albus; he may have the strength to save himself." He returned to petting the drowsy goat. "Why don't you just talk to him about it? Stop all of this ridiculous speculation without direct evidence of what's really going on!"

"I know you think that's best, but in order for all to continue as planned, he must believe that I have complete trust in him. If he thinks that has faltered, all our work will be for nothing." Dumbledore drained the glass and passed his hand over it so that it refilled.

"Codswallop! How do you know he hasn't figured it out all ready? He's certainly not a fool!"

"If he has, he has not trusted me enough to bring it up in our time together. He may not even realize what's going on inside himself enough to know that I suspect it. We are all, alas, fools when it comes to what's in our hearts." Dumbledore drained his glass again and stood to leave. "In any event, it is my duty to see that the plan moves forward. I will not sacrifice it for an old man's fears."

"Even if those fears are right and destroy the plan anyway?" Aberforth shot up and stood to challenge his brother.

"Just so."


	4. Animus Redimio

_A/N: More thanks to the wonderful anogete for her beta reading of this chapter. Thanks also to my readers and reviewers, many of whom are already hard at work trying to get inside my brain!_

_Obligatory: None of these things belong to me; they all belong to JKR. I just like to have a bit of fun with them, and no profit is desired. _

--

The next night, Hermione stood outside of Professor Caveo's dungeon classroom with her stomach doing flip-flops as she reached out to knock on the door. Her mind had been playing the Pensieve memory of Albus and Aberforth Dumbledore since the night before, and she had yet to talk to Harry or Ron about it. She had very nearly convinced herself that it was best not to tell them. She would show them the Pensieve itself and perhaps they could experiment with it, but for now, the memory would be her secret. There was no use stoking the already existing conflagration of their hatred for Snape.

When the time on her clock ticked down the last few seconds of the waning hour, she rapped on the door three times, and waited until a deep voice from within sounded, "Come."

She opened the door and saw Caveo sitting at his desk, marking papers. Had his hair and eyes been darker and his nose a bit larger and more crooked, he could have been Snape. Acknowledging this thought made Hermione's blood run cold.

"Good evening, Miss Granger. I trust that this meeting is not inconvenient for you?" He put down his marking quill and removed his reading glasses from his face.

"Of course not, Professor. I want to thank you for agreeing to help me advance in my studies." She kept her voice polite and humble, and took a seat across from him at the desk.

"You are already quite advanced in your studies, Miss Granger. When I took over this position, I had notes and marks from your previous instructors, and I was surprised to find that neither had made any mention of your exemplary potion-making skills. Is this talent a recent development in your work?" He eyed her with amusement, as though he already knew the answer to his question.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Though they had spoken in private before, the allusion to Snape was awkward. "I am not sure if I am as good as all that, sir, but I believe I have performed well in this class since I began, and cannot speak for the opinions of my previous professors."

He chuckled. "Yes, well, I can think of one in particular who would not be quick to acknowledge the talents of a Muggle-born Gryffindor. But enough of that. I trust that you had no troubles from Madam Pince in getting books from the Restricted Section?"

"She seemed rather contented by your note, sir. Thank you for that. Like you, I believe that we should learn as much as possible about dark potions so that we can be prepared if we are faced with one. The Restricted books seem to have the best information about concoctions of that sort."

He thought for a moment. "Quite true, Miss Granger, however, there is one book I believe you will not be able to find, even in the extensive Hogwarts library, one that will be of great use to you in learning about dark potions. I know of only two owl order establishments that stock it, and I would like you to order one before we begin our official tutoring sessions. Here is the name of the text, and also information on the retailer. I trust you will have no trouble getting your hands on it?" He handed her a small piece of parchment with the information on it in his neat script.

"I will see to it immediately, Professor." She looked at the note that read, '_Moste Dark and Dreadful Potente Potions_ from La Morte's Potions Supplies Limited.'

"Very good. Now, if you have no other questions, I must see to these second year papers, though I assure you I would rather discuss the uses of unicorn hair in potions with you than be forced to endure this idiocy." His tone was dark and irritated, but it forced a small smile from Hermione.

"No questions, sir. Good luck with those essays. Good evening." She rose from her chair and backed away towards the door.

"Good evening, Miss Granger." His nose remained pointed down at the parchments in his hand, an exasperated look in his eyes as he began covering them with red ink.

As soon as she returned to her room, she sent off a note to the potion supply company to order the book. She borrowed Hedwig from Harry for the task, telling him that she was sending a note to her parents, and that it was too late for her to go to the Owlery. She wasn't sure why she was hiding the truth from her friends, but it seemed like the right thing to do.

She returned to the common room to find Harry with his nose stuffed into a Dark Arts book, as usual.

"Really, Harry," she chided. "Don't you ever study for anything else?"

"Listen to this one," he exclaimed, ignoring her protestations. "The Impalement Hex, when cast properly, causes a force from the wand that stabs through the center of the target's body and ensures a slow, painful death." Harry smiled triumphantly, his eyes almost red with glee. "That sounds like a good one for Snape."

"I should think you ought to focus on killing Voldemort for now," Hermione forced through gritted teeth at the evil delight on her friend's face, a delight that contorted it into someone she barely recognized.

For once, Ron piped up in agreement. "I think Hermione's right, mate. Shouldn't you leave the greasy git to the Aurors?"

"Without the Dementors in Azkaban, prison seems like an altogether pleasant experience for the bastard compared to what I can do to him with these curses." He slammed the book shut. "And anyway, I don't see what it matters to either of you. He set the wheels in motion to have my parents and Sirius killed, and he murdered Dumbledore. I am owed my revenge."

"Will that really make it better for you? Is that kind of revenge the same as justice?" Hermione eyed the book in his lap, and it was an even more unsavory Dark Arts text than she had been able to find in the library for her own study.

"Is there a difference?" Harry's eyes had begun to return to their normal brilliant green, but it seemed to Hermione that they were still outlined in red.

"Of course there's a difference! Snape gets punished for his crimes, and you don't end up in Azkaban for murder!" Hermione felt her bottom lip tremble.

"I see. So, it's okay for the Chosen One to kill Voldemort, but if he kills anyone else, that's a punishable offense? Seems like a bit of a double standard, if you ask me." Harry slumped back into his chair and made a huffing sound.

"I don't think that's what Hermione is saying. Voldemort will be out to kill you, and killing him before he gets the chance is self-defense. If you just hunt down Snape and impale him while his back is turned, that's premeditated murder." Hermione was shocked as Ron made her point for her.

"So you agree with her now? Everyone is against me, I swear it. Did you ever consider that Snape might be out to kill me?" Harry's tone was dangerously soft.

"He had the chance after he killed Dumbledore, Harry, and he didn't. He didn't even take you to Voldemort! Doesn't that prove anything to you? That maybe he isn't out to kill you?" Hermione felt a tear gathering in her eye.

"How can I prove to you two that Snape is an evil git who deserves to die as slowly and painfully as I can manage to do it? You two didn't see the look in his eyes when he killed Dumbledore. It was pure evil. He's pure evil. I would be doing a service to everyone if I decapitated him!" His eyes began glowing with a red fury once again.

Hermione thought for a moment, calming her breathing as she watched Harry rub at his scar. "You could show us the look in his eyes," she suggested quietly, calculating the consequences to him and herself if she got him to do what she was contemplating.

"What, with Legilimency?" Inexplicably, his eyes brightened.

"Come to my room. I have to show you both something." She motioned to Harry and Ron, and they followed her eagerly.

Once they were inside, she closed and warded the door, bringing out the shrunken box of the Pensieve and returning it to its normal size.

"That's Dumbledore's Pensieve!" Harry exclaimed with a touch of hurt in his voice. "Where did you get it?"

"McGonagall gave it to me. She said that she thought I might get some use out of it, and I didn't really know how until now. Harry, you were the only one who saw Snape kill Dumbledore. Maybe it will help if you share it with me and Ron." She hoped to keep him from dwelling on the hurt he would feel at not being given one of Dumbledore's possessions.

He thought for a moment. "You really want to see?" He looked back and forth between the two of them.

Ron and Hermione both nodded hesitantly, staring at him quietly to see his reaction.

Harry sighed. "Alright then." He took his wand, placed it to his temple, and withdrew a long, silvery strand that he dropped into the bowl. "Dive in. Don't think I'm letting you watch it without me."

Hermione and Ron cast uncertain glances at each other before taking their places around the Pensieve, pressing their faces to the surface of the bowl, and falling in.

Hermione stood, as she had in her dream, near a defenseless Dumbledore on the staircase. Before her stood Draco, with a trembling wand raised, and several other Death Eaters, all regarding the scene with a mixture of amusement and impatience. Next to her, Ron gasped and Harry watched, transfixed.

"Draco, do it or stand aside so one of us – " shouted one of the female Death Eaters as they looked on at Dumbledore, prostrate on the stairs.

Suddenly, so loudly that it made Hermione jump, someone burst through the doors and swept into the scene. It was Snape.

"We've got a problem, Snape," said a Death Eater she knew to be called Amycus from Harry's earlier retellings of the event. "The boy doesn't seem able – "

"Severus," interrupted Dumbledore's soft voice.

Hermione took a moment to study Dumbledore. Harry had described his voice and manner earlier as desperate pleading for his life, but Hermione wasn't so sure. His tone seemed far too steady for that.

"Severus…please…" came the insistence again, this time more determined, more calm.

Snape's face became contorted with a dozen unreadable emotions, some seemingly fury, hatred, and defeat, as he raised his wand with a stead hand and cast, "Avada Kedavra!"

Then, the scene went black, and Hermione, Ron, and Harry were propelled out of the Pensieve and landed hard on the floor of the Head Girl's room.

"There, are you both satisfied?" gasped Harry as his eyes glowed again with hatred.

"It is as you described it, Harry," Hermione admitted, though she was still contemplating what she had seen.

"I'm so sorry, Harry…" Ron whispered, pulling himself up and helping Harry and Hermione to their feet. "You know we trust you, don't you?"

Harry looked down at his feet and shuffled nervously. "I know. I've just got a lot on my mind, is all."

"We know, Harry," Hermione said soothingly, placing a hand on his arm. "We just worry about you."

"You needn't, though. When the time comes, I will do what I have to do." His expression told Hermione and Ron that the discussion was over.

"You're both tired. We should all get some sleep." Hermione admitted defeat in the conversation.

"That sounds like a brilliant idea," Ron commented with a yawn.

"Yeah. Good night, Hermione."

"Good night, Harry. Good night, Ron."

"'Night, Hermione." Harry led Ron out of Hermione's room, and she was left with her thoughts once again.

She gasped when she turned around and saw Harry's memory floating in the Pensieve. Harry didn't seem to realize that he should retrieve it before he left her room. Feeling a bit guilty, she picked up the end of the memory with her wand and stored it in a spare potions vial she had in her room. She carefully tucked the purloined memory into her trunk with Aberforth's.

The worry that had been gathering in her mind since the summer was becoming more and more potent. What was going on with Harry? She had known him to be moody and impulsive in the past, but this sort of reckless bloodlust was entirely unlike him. If he continued to dwell on it, she feared, he would get lost in his hatred and be unable to focus on the most important task at hand: defeating Voldemort.

Hermione was awakened in the morning by Hedwig's persistent pecking at her window.

"Hello, Hedwig," she greeted her sleepily, opening the window and taking the package from her. "Here's a biscuit. Thanks for your discretion." She smoothed the owl's feathers, earning her an appreciative hoot before she flew away.

The brown package was unmarked, save Hermione's name, and though she suspected that it was the text she had ordered, she tested it for dark magic anyway. Now was not the time to let one's guard down. Finding that it was clean, she tore open the package and found an unassuming looking black, leather bound book, its title, _Moste Dark and Dreadful Potente Potions_, embossed on it in silver print.

Though she wanted to look through it, she needed to get to breakfast and to classes. It looked like it would have to wait a while.

"Mr. Weasley," Professor Caveo's voice sounded into the din of the Potion's class as Ron writhed on the ground, gripped by some unseen pain. "I see you have once again failed to produce the antidote. Miss Granger, would you be so kind as to force feed Mr. Weasley some of yours?"

Hermione sighed as she bottled a vial of her potion, which was a brilliant, clear crimson, and looked on at Ron's potion, which was a murky, lumpy blood red.

She knelt down and poured the antidote into his mouth as Harry cradled Ron's head. "Are you alright, Ron?"

"Oh yeah, I'm bloody brilliant, considering I just had a potion-induced heart attack!" He cleared his throat as Harry and Hermione helped him to his feet.

"Now that we are all in one piece again, you may clean up your work and go." Caveo returned to the parchment on his desk.

This was often how Potions was spent. Caveo would describe the properties of the dark potion, and then instruct the students to consult their texts to brew the antidote. He would sit quietly, marking papers or making some kind of notations on a parchment, while the class worked in near silence. He would not walk around, he would merely wait for the students to come to his desk, take his potion, and then take their antidote. Even if you knew that your potion was not up to snuff, you didn't dare try not to take it. Inevitably, one student or another, often Ron, would end up rolling around the floor in agony, and someone would have to deliver to them an appropriate antidote.

Much to Ron's chagrin, the appropriate antidote often came from Hermione. Caveo didn't exactly dote on her, but he clearly favored her in the class and was always quick to point out her talent for potions. If the Slytherins were angered by his obvious favoritism, they didn't speak about it. The bark and bite of the Slytherin house had gone since Draco had disappeared, and none seemed too encouraged by the information they had on his fate.

After everyone filed out of the class, some still patting their chests to make sure their hearts were okay, Hermione walked up to Caveo's desk.

"Professor Caveo, I just wanted to tell you that the book arrived this morning. That is quite a fast operation!"

"Indeed. Due to the nature of the supplies that particular source sells, its clients tend to appreciate discretion and haste. Now that you have the book, we can move ahead with your apprenticeship. However, I am afraid that I will be busy for the next week, so what would you say to beginning next week on Sunday afternoon, say, two o'clock?" He threw down his quill and regarded her with intensity.

"That would be fine, Professor. Is there anything specifically you would like me to study, or should I just start from the beginning?" Hermione was predictably eager to begin reading her new book.

"Read it at your leisure, Miss Granger. I believe it will be more important for our purposes for you to brew rather than memorize the more unsavory aspects of the text." He smirked at her eagerness.

"Of course, sir. I'll be off to my next class, then." She bowed her head and made to go to the door.

"Thank you for your help with Mr. Weasley today, Miss Granger. I hope you can convince him to pay closer attention to his dicing from now on, lest we have more unpleasant incidents." He grinned again more openly. When he smiled that like, it revealed his dark handsomeness.

"You might say that I am used to it, sir, but you are welcome." With one last small smile, Hermione left for her next class.

That night, Hermione began reading the first chapter of the dark potions text. The introduction sounded as though Snape had lifted his first year speech directly from it, as it talked about the great power of potions when one was attentive to detail. She fell asleep, as usual, with the book pressed open on her chest.

Though she had not had a dream about Dumbledore's murder for a couple of weeks, she was once again in the middle of the familiar scene. Now that she had witnessed the Pensieve memory from Harry, the images were more crisp and certain than they had been before.

Snape held his wand up to Dumbledore, the other Death Eaters around him frozen in near disbelief. However, rather than cast the Killing Curse, he turned to Hermione and stared into her eyes. With his trademark dangerous, silky teaching voice, he instructed, "Page 394, Miss Granger. Turn to page 394."

"In what book?" Hermione gasped as she sat bolt upright in bed. The dark potions book slid down her chest and perched itself in her lap. "In this book?" she asked the room.

Figuring she had been listening to her dreams thus far, she decided to take a chance and open the book to the page Snape had indicated. It was in the middle of a chapter entitled "Potions of Life and Death."

A natural paragraph began the page. Hermione read aloud. "The Elixir of Life is the most well-known immortality potion in the field. However, the necessity of being in possession of a Philosopher's Stone makes production of this draught impossible for all save Nicholas Flamel. Another potion exists which can be made with more conventional ingredients, the Animus Redimio, though only a sparse number of Potions Masters know the formula and unique procedures for its preparation."

Hermione read through the rest of page; it seemed to discuss potions that dealt death, none of which were particularly new to her. She searched the logs of her memory for this Animus Redimio potion, but came up empty.

The dream bothered her for weeks afterwards. Any spare moment she had in the library was spent combing the Restricted Section for mentions of the potion, but she found nothing. Hermione didn't know why she had suddenly become so interested in an immortality potion, as these things were generally taboo in the Wizarding world, but having Snape speak to her in a dream in which Dumbledore's voice was usually dominant was enough to motivate her.

She had stopped being bothered by how seriously she was taking her dreams. Some unknown force in her told her that she should listen to them, and so she was. So long as she wasn't involving anyone else in her lunacy, she figured it couldn't hurt anyone so long as she got all of her schoolwork and N.E.W.T. revision done, and completed her duties as Head Girl.

Hermione wasn't the only one who seemed haunted, however. Harry's behavior was becoming more and more bizarre, and several times in Defense Against the Dark Arts, he would become anxious and accidentally hurt someone on whom he was practicing a hex. When this would happen, Professor Lupin would keep him after class, and though Harry never specifically mentioned what he said, he would return to Ron and Hermione looking thoroughly talked to. Any time Ron and Hermione tried to ask Harry what was going on with him, he would get angry, and either lash out at them or refuse to speak to them for the rest of the day. They were running out of ways to reach him, and, privately, both expressed their concerns to each other and tried to figure out with whom they could speak who could help their friend.

Hermione's apprenticeship was going very well, though she was getting sick of convincing Ron that Caveo wasn't torturing her in the dungeons. However, it was true that she was brewing some of the strangest and darkest potions she had never even imagined existed. She didn't question how Caveo had obtained some of the ingredients (unicorn bladder, spleen of a centaur), and she wasn't sure she wanted to know. After a few lessons with him, however, she learned that there really was a fascinating art to potion making, and she was sure that this was the direction she wanted her career to take.

When approximately a month had yielded no more dreams and no more positive results in finding the Animus Redimio in any book in Hogwarts, she decided that she would have to ask Caveo. They had developed a great working rapport, and, occasionally, his stern professor mode would slip, and they would talk about potions and her future casually over a bubbling cauldron.

And so, with her curiosity and impatience unsettled for far too long, one Sunday afternoon in the third week of October, Hermione decided to gather up the courage to speak to the Potions master.

She had just set a cauldron of Veritaserum to simmer when she looked up at the inquisitive face of Eli Caveo. "Something is on your mind, Miss Granger."

She jumped nearly a mile and wondered if he was using Legilimency against her, but she knew he wasn't, as she had been working quite persistently on her own and with Harry and Ron on both Legilimency and Occlumency. Caveo was not currently in her thoughts.

"Well, I had been reading _Moste Dark and Dreadful Potente Potions_, and there was something in there about a potion called the Animus Redimio. It didn't say much, and I tried to find out more about it in the library, but I came up empty." She bit her lip in her usual method of displaying nervousness.

"Ahh yes, the Animus Redimio." Caveo leaned back onto his chair and studied her. "It is a very potent immortality potion, more potent even than the Elixir of Life."

"But there is a good deal of information available on the Elixir of Life, yet nothing but this one mention of the Animus Redimio in a book on very dark potions. Why is it such a secret?" Her nervousness subsided and was replaced by excitement.

"Miss Granger, what is it for you that makes a potion dark? Don't give me the textbook definition; I want to hear what it is that you truly believe."

Hermione thought for a moment. "I suppose that a truly dark potion is one that inflicts some sort of pain or unpleasantness on another."

"And yet here we have a potion that gives life, and it is considered dark. So dark that I know of only one Potions master alive right now who knows how to brew it, and it isn't me." He smirked at her, allowing her to let out a short laugh of relief. "What do you suppose it is about an immortality potion that makes it dark?"

"I would guess that meddling with life or death would be considered a taboo, as it is not even for wizards to decide who lives forever and who dies young." She tucked a stray strand of hair back into her ponytail.

"That is quite true. Many are at odds over how to classify dark potions, and it is about more than what the potions do. Many potions that do things such as saving one from imminent death make use of the inherent magic of substances not everyone agrees we should use. As you know, in our class and in our extra lessons here, we have used bits and pieces of creatures, and I am sure even an aspiring Potions mistress such as yourself has found the organs of innocent animals a disgusting addition to an otherwise normal potion, yes?" His eyes wandered to his stores of owl eyes and swan beaks.

"You could say that, sir. But we can find the formulas for these brews quite easily, even if the ingredients themselves are more difficult to locate."

"Indeed. And here lies the dark nature of the Animus Redimio. It is a bit unlike the Elixir of Life, which is a draught that, all other things being equal, will prolong one's life indefinitely. It is said that the Animus Redimio will save you from the Killing Curse itself if taken in time before it is cast. It does not make you immortal, per se, but it binds your soul to your body. It makes it impossible for your soul to leave the flesh and allow you to die." His tone was wistful and dreamlike.

"So what ingredient makes it dark, sir?" Hermione swallowed hard.

"Don't look so terrified. It isn't as bad as you may think, though perhaps it is different for a man to consider. The potion requires a drop of the blood of a virgin to brew it."

Hermione looked at him incredulously. "So you just poke a needle into a virgin's finger and get the blood. What's so bad about that?"

Caveo chuckled. "If only it were that simple. Yes, the potion can be made effectively with the blood from a virgin's finger, but to make it as potent as possible, the virgin blood must be retrieved through intercourse."

Hermione's eyes snapped open in understanding. "I see. So if one wanted to make this potion to save himself from death often, he would have to deflower a lot of virgins."

"Precisely. Of course, it is a more potent potion if the blood is surrendered willingly, but there are many ways to ensure compliance with the retrieval of the blood. So, you see, potions such as this, whose brewing itself requires the sacrifice or discomfort of a witch or wizard, as well as meddling in the affairs of life and death, make a potion traditionally dark." Caveo tapped his fingers together a bit anxiously. "Well, I think that is enough of a lesson for one afternoon, what do you say? You can come to bottle the Veritaserum when it has finished simmering tomorrow."

"Thank you, sir." Hermione gathered her books and prepared to leave. Just as she was about to turn for the door, she snapped back towards Caveo. "Professor?"

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"You said you know of only one Potions master who could brew the Animus Redimio. Who is it?" Her curiosity had got the best of her ever since he had made the comment.

"Why, Severus Snape, of course." He looked up at her with a hesitant eye.

"Ah, of course," she replied, cursing herself silently for not having guessed it right away. After all, he was the one person she knew who could rival Caveo in fascination with dark potions. "Well then, have a good evening, sir."

"You as well, Miss Granger. Goodbye." He abruptly snatched a parchment from his desk and began writing.

"Goodbye, Professor."


	5. In Essence Divided

_A/N: More thanks to the amazing anogete for her efforts in beta reading this chapter. Also, lot of love to my readers and reviewers; I am so pleased by all of the guesswork everyone's been doing trying to figure out what's going on in this story!_

_Obligatory: None of these things belong to me; they all belong to JKR. I just like to have a bit of fun with them, and no profit is desired. _

--

The week following the Halloween feast, Hermione was as busy as ever with her schoolwork, extra Potions studies, and her late night work with wandless magic, Occlumency and Legilimency. Her wandless magic had grown quite impressive, even by her own exacting standards. She had now worked up to wandless Transfiguration and could Transfigure things in her room into other objects and back again with no errors. She was also able to perform wandless Silent Speech, and though she didn't tell them exactly what she was doing, she would annoy Ron, Neville, and Harry at meals by speaking to their minds as though she were their consciences.

'Harry, why don't you stop being such a prat and ask Ginny out for tea at the next Hogsmeade visit? She's been miserable without you!' she commented one lunch, which caused Harry to gaze longingly at Ginny from across the Gryffindor table. Hermione was quite pleased with herself, particularly because no one would ever ask her if she was really talking to them, and they would usually follow her advice. She took this as a good sign that her friends already thought of her as the voice of their consciences.

While the boys were at Quidditch practice one evening, Hermione found herself bundled against the chilled November air, her bushy mane blowing wildly behind her, sitting in the seats surrounding the pitch.

She had so many riddles in her mind, and though she had no dreams since the one where Snape told her to look at a page in a book, she thought of those few strange nighttime words from Snape and Dumbledore often. What did it all mean, and what did the bits of information have to do with one another?

These thoughts were heavy on her mind as she heard screams coming from the Quidditch practice. She expected to see a lot of things when she looked up, but the last thing she imagined was to find Harry hissing at Ron's broom in Parseltongue, a broom that had been Transfigured into a serpent. Ron was shrieking in horror at Harry, who seemed to be encouraging the serpent to attack his friend. Hermione was dumbfounded by the scene.

Before she had time to ponder what in Merlin's name was going on, Ron had wriggled free of the snake and began plummeting towards the ground. Without thinking, she reached out her hands and cast, "Arresto Momentum!" To her amazement, Ron's fall slowed, and he landed on the earth with a gentle thud.

Hermione sprinted down from her seat, pulling her wand out to make it look like she had completed the task with it rather than with wandless magic, and darted towards Ron, who was dusting dirt from his practice robes. The rest of the team, including Harry, was flying down to dismount their brooms around their Keeper.

"Ron! What happened?" Hermione gasped as she grabbed his arm.

"He's completely bloody lost it, Hermione. I don't know what's got into him!" Ron glared at Harry as he stalked off the pitch towards the castle.

"We should get you to Madam Pomfrey, Ron. Are you alright? How do you feel?" Hermione ran her wand over Ron to look for any internal injuries.

"You know we can't tell anyone about this, Hermione. What will everyone think? And he'll be expelled for sure. Please don't tell." Ron regarded her with an expression more serious than she had ever seen cross his freckled features.

"I promise I won't, Ron. You know I just want to help." Hermione bit her lip and tried to stop her hair from blowing into her face in the cold.

"Come on, mate, we'll get you up to bed for the night," offered a fourth year Chaser as a couple members of the team escorted Ron back to the castle.

Hermione encouraged Ginny to hang back. "Ginny, tell me what happened," she implored in a whisper as they began walking.

"Oh, it was just awful. I hit the Quaffle into the center hoop that Ron was supposed to be guarding, and Harry just lost it. He started screaming about how stupid Ron was, and how he didn't deserve to be on the team. I could almost see his eyes glowing red in the dark. I was absolutely terrified! But then, Harry pulled out his wand and turned Ron's broom into a snake, and the snake started making to attack! And Harry just egged it on!" Ginny took deep breaths in the midst of her rambling recollection of the evening's events.

"That's just terrible," Hermione groaned, pressing her fingers against her eyes. "What on earth has got into him?"

"I don't know, Hermione. It's like half the time he's the normal Harry, even if he's a bit more angry than usual, but then the other half, he's so scary, like he's possessed. It reminds me of…" Ginny trailed off, her cheeks blushing bright scarlet.

"Who does it remind you of, Ginny?" Hermione knew as soon as the words left her lips.

"Tom," she replied simply, referring to the younger version of Voldemort who had possessed her in her first year.

"It isn't like that, I'm certain," Hermione offered comfortingly, patting her friend's elbow.

"Maybe not exactly, but you have to admit that sometimes, when you look at Harry, you don't see him. You don't see those bright green eyes. You see red ones. You see Voldemort. Not that I'm saying he's actually turning evil or becoming Voldemort or anything, but he's changing." Ginny's pace quickened.

Hermione tried to keep up, and her breath became labored. "I do know what you mean, Ginny, I'm just not sure how to help him. Maybe you should speak with him. I think that he needs you. He's been trying to shut you out, but you can't let him."

"I know," Ginny replied with a sigh. "I just don't think I can reach him anymore."

When they returned to the common room, it was deserted, and Ginny left for the sixth year room, while Hermione headed for her Head Girl room. The image of Harry coaxing a Transfigured serpent to attack his friend was fresh in her mind, and the evil gleam in his eyes sent shivers down her spine.

Hermione had had enough, and the next night, after dinner, she went to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom to speak to Remus. When she got there, she found his door open, and Remus and Professor Caveo speaking together over a goblet of what Hermione assumed was the Wolfsbane potion.

She knocked on the opened door, and both men looked up at her.

"Ah, Hermione, what a coincidence! I was just speaking with Eli, and he says that your work together is going well!" Remus beamed at her with pride.

"Hello, Professor Lupin, Professor Caveo." She nodded at both men and smiled.

"Good evening, Miss Granger," Caveo replied steadily, eyeing her with what looked to be suspicion. "I was just leaving. I wish you both a pleasant night." He stood to walk towards Hermione.

"Thank you again for your help, Eli," Remus said with a serious expression. "I wasn't sure how things were going to go when I came back."

"Think nothing of it, Remus, though I daresay in the future I may have Miss Granger brew it, and you will be in her debt rather than mine." He winked subtly at Hermione.

"I am sure she is quite capable," Remus replied. "Good night, Eli."

"Good night, Remus, Miss Granger." With a flourish of black robes, Caveo disappeared into the corridor.

"And what can I do for you, Hermione? Something tells me that this is not a simple social call." Remus motioned for her to sit, and conjured a pot of tea. "Tea?"

Hermione smiled. "Please. You are right, it is not a social call, sir."

Remus chuckled as he handed her a cup of tea. "Please don't call me 'sir' when we're outside of class. It makes me feel old." He frowned as he looked into his own teacup. "I have had quite enough of that feeling as it is."

"I know what you mean, Remus, and that's sort of why I am here." Her lip found the comforting spot between her teeth.

"I wondered when I would be seeing you here for a serious chat, Hermione, though why don't you tell me what's bothering you rather than my hazarding a guess?"

"Well, to cut right to the chase, it's Harry. I am sure you have noticed, but lately he has been behaving very strangely. At first I thought it was just his anger running away with him, but now I think it might be something different. I hope that we are speaking in confidence?"

His frown turned to a deeper look of concern. "If you're concerned that I might go to Minerva with something Harry has done, you needn't be. I am sure we can think of something to solve whatever is bothering you without the Headmistress being any the wiser."

"Thank you for that. Well, last night, Harry attacked Ron at Quidditch practice. He turned Ron's broom into a serpent and set it to attack. He's accidentally hurt people with magic in the past, but I have never seen him do something so deliberate to a friend. It was like it wasn't even him. He almost killed Ron." She took an uneasy sip of her tea.

Remus' frown deepened even further, accenting the worry lines on his face. "I was afraid that something like this would happen."

"You were?" Hermione asked with shock.

"Against my advice, Harry has been quite immersed in the study of the Dark Arts of late. He claimed it was to find ways to use Voldemort's own weapons against him, but I worry that Harry has become obsessed with them now. Once you get that deep into the Dark Arts, it is difficult to save yourself from their influence." Remus rubbed at his temples.

"While I am sure that's part of it, Remus, I think there may be more to it than that, though it will be difficult for me to explain without sounding crazy. You're just one of the few people I can talk to about it, because you're one of the only people whom I know I can trust." She tugged absentmindedly at a lock of her brown hair.

"I do hope that you know that you can trust me, Hermione."

Hermione let out a breath she didn't remember holding. "I do. Well, I'll just get right to it. I think that Harry's scar might be a Horcrux. I think Harry might be holding the final piece of the puzzle, and he doesn't even know it. It has to be affecting him somehow."

Remus looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. "It would certainly explain why a curse that leaves no physical evidence would leave behind such a distinctive mark, though I am afraid I know very little about Horcruxes. They are part of a very obscure branch of Dark Magic."

"Do you think that Dumbledore knew?" Hermione finally allowed herself to ask the question aloud that had been bothering her since she first guessed that Harry might be in possession of the final Horcrux.

"I don't believe so. He may have theorized, but I don't even know if Dumbledore is powerful enough to sense such a thing and know what it was. If he thought so, he certainly would have said something to Harry, don't you think?"

"I suppose you are right. It's just a lot to think about." She paused and gazed at the floor. "I'm so worried for him. So much is depending on him, and yet, I am afraid for what it might do to him. I wonder if he's going to make it out of this in one piece."

Remus regarded her with an almost fatherly concern. "I have tried speaking to him about his behavior, and I must say that I agree with your assessment of him of late. Something is changing in Harry. I sense a great darkness in him when he's near, but I cannot quite put my finger on it."

Hermione's eyes widened for a moment, but she said nothing about the thought that suddenly occurred to her. "I guess we will just have to hope for the best."

"I know that telling you not to worry would be a futile effort, but let me at least say this to you. The end of this battle is soon upon us, and someone is going to win one way or the other. Soon we shall see what way Harry is going to go." Remus' tone was one of resignation.

Hermione sighed and raised herself from her seat. "Thank you for talking with me. Sometimes I find I need someone a bit more adult, and I get too nervous around Professor McGonagall."

Remus let out a deep laugh. "I am almost forty years old, and I feel the same way around her. She's definitely got a presence!"

"Well, I hope you have a good evening, Remus. I suppose I will see you in class." She smiled and made for the door.

"Good night, Hermione, and remember: love saved Harry from Voldemort once. It will take all the love we have for him to save him again."

As Hermione headed for her room in almost a full run, she kept hearing Remus' voice saying, "I sense a great darkness in him when he's near."

Dumbledore's voice joined his in her mind, chorusing with, "I always knew that the dark was there, haunting him, but every time I am near him, I can sense it more and more, and it wears on me."

Dumbledore and Aberforth hadn't been talking about Snape at all. They had been talking about Harry! It was so simple, yet she had originally been so convinced that it was about Snape. They had never mentioned the name of the person to whom they were referring, and it would have been just as easy for McGonagall to make the same mistake that Hermione had. Dumbledore did know that some part of Voldemort had infected Harry, and he probably realized too late that it was the Horcrux.

She tossed and turned in bed all night, and her dreams returned with extreme clarity. This time, however, Dumbledore stared at her from the steps, Snape's wand raised in the moment directly after casting the killing curse, and said to her, "It can be done." Snape added, "You know what must be done."

Abandoning sleep, Hermione mentally catalogued all of the information swirling around her brain. All of these pieces had to go together somehow, didn't they? In a few scant weeks, she had discovered and confirmed several things from her dreams, dreams she was now sure were coming from a source outside of her own subconscious. She had learned that Harry had a Horcrux in his scar, that there was a soul-binding potion that required virgin blood to make, that whatever was inside Harry was gradually making him evil, and that she knew whatever it was that needed to be done about it.

Horcruxes. What did she know about them? They were bits of someone's soul, split when a murder was performed and stored elsewhere to be used later if the primary soul was destroyed. They constituted the very embodiment of dark magic as Hermione had come to understand it: Horcruxes meddled in the natural course of life and death.

And then there were her suspicions about them, shaped by her new knowledge. If placed in a person, the magic of the owner of the split soul infected the host, giving the host the owner's powers, perhaps explaining the fact that Harry's wand was a brother wand to Voldemort's, and that Harry spoke Parseltongue. To save Harry, and indeed to save the Wizarding world from Voldemort, the bit of Voldemort's soul would have to be destroyed without also killing Harry.

But how could such a thing be done?

"Think, Hermione, think," she insisted to herself aloud. "How can Voldemort's soul be destroyed without destroying Harry's soul?"

Harry's soul…Harry's soul needed to be bound to his body. A soul binding was needed to keep his own soul bound to his body so that Voldemort's soul could be destroyed. Animus Redimio. Soul Binding. The potion!

Before Hermione could even spare another thought on the subject, the door to her room inexplicably was thrown open, and into it stumbled Ron, holding Harry's limp body. In his hand, Harry was clutching the head of a snake.

"Ron!" she gasped. "What in the bloody hell is going on?" Hermione jumped from her bed and ran towards the bizarre party that had just entered.

"Harry," Ron panted. "Nagini…" he gasped as he collapsed onto the floor.

"Yes, yes, I can see that. Calm down," she insisted, conjuring a glass of water and thrusting it at Ron. "Is Harry alright? Are you alright?"

Ron gulped the water and wiped the sweat from his brow. "In the middle of the night, I woke up, and Harry's bed was empty. The Marauder's Map was open on his nightstand, so I looked at it and saw that Harry was down in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, and he wasn't moving. I snuck down there, and I found him sitting at the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets with Nagini, and she was dead. He didn't say anything, he just cackled wildly at me before passing out. I didn't know what to do, so I came here." He tried to pull the snake head from Harry's hand, but the hand was far more rigid than the rest of Harry's prone body.

"You stay right here, Ronald Weasley. Don't you dare move!" Hermione grabbed the Invisibility Cloak from the pocket of Harry's robe and sprinted for the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

Once there, she pounded on the door with so much might, she thought she would wake the entire castle. Moments later, a very disheveled-looking Remus Lupin and his recent bride, Tonks, came to the door with wands raised. "Hermione!" Remus choked. "What is it?"

"Wotcher, Hermione," Tonks muttered, lowering her wand. "You look like you've seen a ghost!"

"Remus, Tonks, sorry," Hermione gasped through labored breaths. "Have to come… Harry… Head Girl's room …now…."

"I don't think I quite understand, but I believe she's saying that we have to go to the Head Girl's room now about Harry?" Remus attempted to translate for his wife.

Tonks nodded. "Sounds about right. Come, we'll use the Floo." At Hermione's confused look, Tonks explained, "Don't get too excited. It's been opened so that professors can get into common rooms and student chambers in case there's a problem, but students can't go the other way. Perfect for situations, well, just like this one." With that, Remus and Tonks each took one of Hermione's arms and pulled her into the fireplace.

When they fell through the fireplace of the Head Girl's room, Remus and Tonks stood paralyzed at the vision of Harry and Ron on the floor with the head of a snake. "Ron," Remus began, "what happened?"

Ron repeated the story he had told Hermione, and his tale was followed by several long minutes of silence, as Remus picked Harry up from the ground and placed him gently on Hermione's bed.

"What are we going to do, Remus?" Tonks asked, breaking the silence in the room.

"I think that we need to get Minerva," he suggested. Before Ron or Hermione could protest, he amended, "I know that wouldn't be any of our first choices, but he needs to see Madam Pomfrey, and we won't be able to keep it from Minerva then. It's best that the information comes from us." He took out his wand and sent a Patronus message to Professor McGonagall.

Hermione took a deep breath and summoned her power of wandless Silent Speech. "You know what this means, Remus. There's only one active Horcrux left, and we're looking at it on my bed."

Her words in his head clearly took Remus by surprise, as, immediately following them, his head snapped towards her. She gave him a very serious, meaningful look, and he nodded his head in acknowledgement every so slightly.

As if on cue, Professor McGonagall stumbled through the fireplace in her tartan dressing gown. "What is the meaning of all of this?" she yelled. "It's four in the morning and…" She ceased her tirade as she saw Harry on the bed. "What in the world is going on here?"

This time, Remus explained what had happened, and the Headmistress turned about six shades of purple before he was done. "We just wanted to alert you before we took him to the Hospital Wing, Minerva."

"Well, what are you waiting for? Let's go! Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, please get back to bed. We will alert you if anything happens."

Normally, Hermione and Ron would have protested, but something in McGonagall's voice told them that the effort was pointless. "Yes, Headmistress," they responded in unison as the adults bore Harry from the room.

Hermione and Ron stared at each other for several moments before Hermione spoke. "Five down, one to go."

"Not to mention actually finishing off Voldemort," Ron muttered. "Do you think that Harry will be okay?"

"Between what happened at Quidditch practice and what happened tonight, I can't say for sure. It's going to take all of us to help him, Ron. It's going to take all of the love we all have for him." Hermione patted Ron on the elbow.

"He can have my love after I get some sleep. That bump on my arse from the fall still smarts." He rubbed his bottom to prove his point. "Thanks, by the way, for saving my life earlier."

Hermione smiled. "I've got rather used to doing it, but you're welcome just the same."

"Cut your cheek, you. Goodnight, Hermione." Ron turned to go to his room.

When the door was closed, Hermione sat at her dressing table, placing her elbows on its surface and cradling her forehead in her hands.

There was now one Horcrux left to destroy, and it resided in the head of her very battered, very tortured friend. There was a way to destroy it, a potion that would keep Harry and his goodness intact while destroying the bit of Voldemort's soul.

The biggest complication of the entire harebrained scheme? The only man who knew how to brew said potion was an accused murderer and on the run somewhere, possibly helping Lord Voldemort with his plans for world domination.

'Oh well,' Hermione thought, looking at her pale reflection in the mirror. 'I've had to work with a lot less before.'


	6. A Day in the Life of a Death Eater

_A/N: More thanks and chocolate-covered Slytherins for my dear beta, anogete! Thanks also to my readers and reviewers; I love hearing all of your theories!_

_Obligatory: None of these things belong to me; they all belong to JKR. I just like to have a bit of fun with them, and no profit is desired. _

--

Over two months at the Death Eater manor had left Severus restless and moody. The lesser Death Eaters knew to steer clear of him at meetings, and only Lucius dared to dine with him. Not many counted his withdrawal as much of a loss to anyone, however, as he had never been active in the social life of Voldemort's followers.

Severus knew that his behavior was not endearing him to anyone, but he didn't care. He had been on house arrest since his return to the Death Eaters, despite the fact that he had ostensibly been forgiven by the Dark Lord and even promised a boon for his actions in killing Dumbledore. Some boon this was! The magical wards of the manor seemed to allow others relative ease in exiting and entering, yet any time Severus tried to Apparate out, he found that he was unable to. He was able to perform all other spells, but all roads of departure were closed to him. He did not appreciate being a prisoner.

One late morning in November, Severus decided that he was going to go for a stroll around the manor, as he could no longer tolerate hiding in his room. Perhaps a sign that he was making some effort to be social would go a little way in allowing him access to greater freedoms.

His feet carried him through the halls, and before he knew what his desired destination was, he found himself standing before a familiar wall, a wall behind which he knew stood The Cell.

He had heard much about The Cell from Lucius, as the most prominent inhabitant of said prison was his son. Normally, people who were taken prisoner by the Death Eaters would be killed, but, for some reason unknown to Severus, Voldemort had decided to keep a few of them around. Whether it was simply for amusement or some other purpose, no one was certain, but it was clear that the other Death Eaters were getting their jollies by torturing the defenseless detainees.

Lucius' enjoyment of the captives was the most disturbing, particularly since Draco was one of them. Severus had never witnessed it, but Lucius would tell him in great detail how he would go into The Cell to inflict the Cruciatus or some other unpleasant spell on his son. Sometimes he would perform some more Muggle violence on the other males or make lascivious advances towards the females, but whatever he chose to do would delight him endlessly.

Severus would sit and listen to these tales with feigned interest, but inside he was unmoved. He could not help but be distracted by a voice in his head that told him to have concern for the fate of his former student. After all, he had played a part in getting him into this mess, hadn't he? And Lucius, noble father that he was, had been the entire driving force behind the incident. Draco had done what he had done to save his father from Voldemort, and yet, in his moment of need, Lucius deserted him and used him as an outlet for his negative energies. Even the darkest and angriest parts of Severus could not accept what Lucius was doing, but there was little Severus could do. To show opposition to the elder Malfoy was folly for a Death Eater on the shaky ground on which Severus found himself presently.

Still, standing before The Cell, removing its wards so that he could enter, he felt that perhaps it wouldn't do much harm to see the boy, at least. Perhaps seeing him would put his mind at ease.

"Lucius has already been in to torture me today, Godfather, so you needn't bother," spat Draco from the floor.

"Manners, Draco," Severus warned, conjuring a chair and sitting down to regard the boy through the bars.

It was clear that the young man before him was a mere shell of the ruthless, brilliant student he remembered. As a close friend of the Malfoy family and godfather to its only son, he had seen Draco grow for nearly two decades, and a sentimental part of Severus was pained to see the boy like this, though he pushed those thoughts away as the byproduct of hanging around Gryffindors too much.

"I am not here to hurt you," Severus finally managed.

Draco lifted his eyes and looked at his former teacher with disgust. "Well, you aren't here to help me, so whatever your intentions are, I'm not interested."

Severus pulled himself up in the chair and brought himself into his full professor mode. "You are a Slytherin, Draco. You do not require the help of others, only your own cunning."

Draco cackled. "Is that what we were doing all those weeks on the run, eating rats and hiding in smelly shacks? Using our cunning?"

"You blame me for your circumstances," Severus said after a few moments of probing around Draco's mind. "I know there is nothing I can do to assure you that I did not turn you in."

"And yet, here you are, free to go wherever you'd like, and I'm locked up like some criminal, suffering the curses of my father. Forgive me if I don't feel like forgiving you." Draco's voice lacked much strength or conviction, and his exhaustion was written all over his face and body.

"I do not expect you to forgive me. I am merely telling you the truth. I am not as free as you think I am, however. I am restricted to the grounds."

Draco laughed bitterly again. "Well, poor Snape. I expect they have you locked in your room making potions from first year, eh?"

Severus raised his eyebrow. "And just how would you know that?"

"You'd be surprised what's said in front of us." Draco motioned to the other occupants of The Cell. "We're going to die soon, so no one really cares what we hear."

Severus' curiosity was piqued, but he didn't dare ask Draco to expound on his claim. "I do not think that your father would really allow you to be killed."

"Then you don't know my father as well as you think you do, Snape. The charge of using others for your own ends as a Slytherin does not exclude one's family. But then, you would know all about that, wouldn't you?" Draco shot Severus a murderous look.

Unsure of what to do or say, Severus stood, and his chair disappeared. "I must be going, Draco. I do hope that you manage to keep yourself alive. Talents like yours will be wasted if you rot in here indefinitely."

"I'm touched by your concern, really, Godfather, but you needn't bother. I will be killed. It's just a matter of when they do it. Once I am no longer of use to anyone, they'll dispose of me. Who knows, perhaps you'll be given the job!" Draco reclined back on the floor with a sigh.

"Be well, Draco." Severus left The Cell and replaced the wards on the wall that concealed it from view.

"Ah, Severus, getting some enjoyment out of the prisoners?" Lucius' mocking voice sounded behind him. "And about time, too!"

"Just having a look 'round, old friend."

"Well, I am glad that I ran into you. The Dark Lord wishes to see you immediately." Lucius motioned for Severus to follow him, and they began walking down the corridor. "Do not feel too badly for Draco, Severus. His own weakness is what got him into his position. He had not the courage to perform his task, and he is being punished for it."

"What makes you think I feel badly for your son?" Severus raised his eyebrow in curiosity.

"Not many would notice the ways in which you betray your emotions, Severus, but I know that flicker of pity in your eyes. It is understandable. You were bound to our family and his safety by becoming Draco's godfather, so it is natural that you should feel some compulsion to help him. Fear not; I know that you will not, and the Dark Lord will not hear about your soft spot for the helpless from me!" Lucius patted Severus' back as they approached the door to Voldemort's audience chamber.

"Thank you, Lucius. I shall endeavor to suppress said soft spot." He flashed the blond wizard a wry smile, and they entered the room.

What they found when they entered nearly startled Severus, as he was completely unprepared for it. Lucius seemed rather nonplussed, so Severus assumed he just hadn't been hanging around any Death Eater hideouts long enough to witness such things.

Voldemort sat, as he usually did, in his throne-chair. However, today, his robes were open, and Bellatrix Lestrange was kneeling before him, her head buried between his legs, presumably performing fellatio on the fearsome Lord, her wild black hair bouncing up and down. Voldemort's face was unmoved by the act, as he simply sat with his red gaze focused on the wall, his thumb and index finger resting on his gaunt chin.

Taking a cursory look about the room, Severus eyed Bellatrix's husband, Rodolphus, observing the scene with pride. Three other Death Eaters viewed the scene, one of whom was holding the body of a snake.

With just a hair's breadth of hesitation, Severus followed Lucius and knelt before Voldemort, their robes rippling behind them. Not daring to show his disgust, Severus mirrored Lucius' deep bow and kiss of his Master's robe hem, trying to stay as far from Bellatrix as possible while still displaying his servitude.

Out of his peripheral vision, Severus watched Bellatrix increase her sucking rhythm, her hand hidden somewhere inside the robes of the subject of her enthusiasm, and bring Voldemort to a quietly gasped climax down her throat before wiping her mouth, refastening his robes lovingly, and moving to stand beside her husband. Rodolphus was nearly jubilant at his wife's accomplishment.

Finally, the Dark Lord acknowledged his recently entered followers who remained prostrate before him. "Rise," he commanded with a raspy and weary voice.

"My Lord," Severus and Lucius replied in unison.

"We have had some dire news, my friends," Voldemort began with a sigh. "Nagini has been murdered."

Lucius gasped in disbelief. "Who would commit such a dreadful act, my Lord?"

Voldemort motioned for the masked Death Eater to hand him the headless body of his once beloved snake. "Potter," he spat, glaring up at Severus.

"Potter was here?" Severus replied, his voice as deeply incredulous as Lucius'.

"Of course not, you fool. Nagini went to Hogwarts to see the condition of the Chamber of Secrets, and somehow Potter found her and removed her head! I want vengeance!" His eyes danced with a wild fury.

"And you shall have it, My Lord," quipped the Death Eater who had been holding Nagini's body. The voice was familiar to Severus, but he did not have time to ponder to whom it belonged.

"Yes, in time, I shall. I shall have my vengeance for all the wrongs done to us. But we must have patience, though I have called you here to instruct you all to redouble your efforts. You all know the tasks you have been assigned, and you must pursue them now with haste and diligence." He closed his eyes, and Severus heard his voice in his mind. "Severus," the voice hissed, "I want you to continue with the healing potions, as well as a goodly supply of the Wolfsbane potion for our werewolf allies. Soon, I shall give you your reward for your services to me."

Meetings were often conducted in this way. Voldemort never allowed too many Death Eaters to know what the others were doing, least of all Death Eaters in the dubious standing of Severus. All would receive their orders in their minds through Silent Speech, and only Voldemort knew at all times who his followers were and what they were up to. This paranoid method of rule assured his followers of his power and asserted his absolute control, efficiently ensuring that no plans were ever compromised, and no one knew enough to enact true damage. It also had made Severus' job of giving novel information to Dumbledore difficult in his spying days.

Finally, all of the assignments were seemingly given to each Death Eater, and they all bowed before him before making their exits.

Now, it was time for the socializing, and though Severus normally skipped this part of an audience, for the sake of his attempts to gain more liberties, he decided to stay and engage in the usual banter of some of his only acquaintances. He could not even bear to call them friends.

Lucius approached him with a wicked gleam in his eye. "Aren't you going to run to retreat to your rooms, Severus?"

"I thought I might see what you have all been up to. After all, I have no place else to go." Severus stared intently into his eyes, trying not to let his anger at his imprisonment show.

"Oh, Severus," Lucius chuckled. "How could I have been so thoughtless? You've been trapped here at the manor, haven't you?"

Severus relaxed instantly. "Indeed."

Lucius laughed again and turned to Rodolphus. "Lestrange, you have failed to release Severus here from house arrest. Surely the Dark Lord ordered you to provide him with absolute freedom?"

Turning from his conversation with Bellatrix, Rodolphus eyed Severus. "I was just worried about him, that is all. The whole bloody world is looking for him, and if he goes traipsing about the countryside, he may lead the Aurors straight to us."

"Are the Aurors not looking for you lot, also?" Severus smirked, a mocking glint in his eye.

"We may be right bastards, Snape, but none of us killed Albus Dumbledore. With you to look for, they are certainly less concerned with us." Rodolphus exchanged a tense but almost unreadable look with Lucius.

"Release his wards, Rodolphus. Severus has been imprisoned long enough." Lucius stared him down hard, and Severus got the uncomfortable feeling that this conversation had been staged. Why he got that feeling, he couldn't quite say.

"Of course, Lucius. As the Dark Lord commands."

"Wonderful," Lucius relied. "Now, enough business. Let us retire to my rooms for some brandy and conversation. After all, we've hardly heard a word about from you in these many weeks, my friend." Lucius patted Severus' elbow, and Severus knew that his time here was to be very long and unpleasant indeed.


	7. Eye of NEWT

_A/N: More love and thanks to my dear beta, anogete, for all of her support and assistance. Thank you also to my readers and reviewers; keep up the good work with trying to figure out what's going on!_

_Obligatory: None of these things belong to me; they all belong to JKR. I just like to have a bit of fun with them, and no profit is desired._

--

Hermione stood over a simmering cauldron in the dungeons, watching the potion before her transform from a blood red to a near shimmering ocean blue. She breathed a sigh of relief and wiped sweat from her brow.

Caveo looked up from his notes and watched her gaze into the cauldron. Suddenly, without warning, Hermione clutched at her stomach and slumped over, nearly bumping the cauldron and spilling the potion inside. She lost her balance and fell backwards onto the floor.

"Miss Granger!" Caveo called, rushing to her side on the floor. One of her hands stayed clutched against her stomach whilst the other worried at the fresh bump that was forming on the back of her head. "Are you alright?" he asked, pulling his wand out.

"I'm fine," she whispered. "I don't know what happened." She watched through drowsy eyes as he ran his wand over her, performing diagnostic spells. He stopped just over her breastbone and stared at a strange green and red glow that emitted from his wand's tip, his eyes growing wide. "What does that mean?"

Caveo hesitated for a moment before finishing the diagnostic spell. "Nothing at all. I was just using some modified detection spells to see if exposure to the components of the potion had any ill effects. I think that you are perhaps just overly taxed. Are you getting enough sleep?"

Hermione looked into the professor's eyes and tried to read the strange expression that had just crossed his features. "Probably not." She suppressed a laugh.

He paused for another moment as he put his wand away. "Miss Granger, there is something I've been meaning to discuss with you, and now seems as good a time as any."

"Of course, Professor." Hermione pulled herself off the floor and back onto her feet.

"You have far exceeded my expectations in our time together. I believe that you are more than prepared to begin a full apprenticeship with me, and I feel that the more time you spend studying subjects that are well beneath you, the more of your gift you will be wasting."

"Thank you for that, sir." Hermione blushed wildly.

"I have mentioned this to the Headmistress, and I believe that she supports my idea. What would you say to taking your N.E.W.T.s as soon as possible, getting an early Hogwarts degree, and becoming my assistant and apprentice full time?" He sat back at his desk and leaned back into his seat.

Hermione stood before the desk, her mind racing. "Surely you can't be serious, sir! I've not even got half-way through my planned N.E.W.T. revision…"

"Please, Miss Granger." Caveo chuckled deeply. "I am certain that you have been ready for this since your O.W.L.s. Besides, no matter how you do on the rest of your exams, though I am sure you will receive Os, you should know that I am prepared to accept you as my apprentice anyway. You have a natural talent for Potions."

"I shall have to think on it, sir. I appreciate your faith in me. May I tell you my answer after classes tomorrow?" Hermione made to pack her things.

"Of course. I know that it is a big decision, though I hope that you will agree." He inclined his head in dismissal, and Hermione sprinted for the Gryffindor common room.

It had been nearly a week since Harry's destruction of Nagini, and he was more withdrawn than he had ever been. Entering the common room, Hermione spotted him huddled in a chair by the fire, staring at the flames. His eyes had none of their usual sparkle; in fact, Hermione could almost swear that they had grown more dull since the end of their sixth year.

She had spent the last week buried in her books, trying to find just the slightest mention of the Animus Redimio potion, and yet, at every turn, she had failed. She needed to get to Snape, but she had no idea how. All she knew was that she was drawn now to the man they called traitor, but the more she dwelled on everything, the less sure she was that he was as evil as they all suspected. A gut instinct had taken over her entire body, and no matter how she tried, she could not stop questioning Snape's loyalty, a loyalty everyone else was certain lay with Voldemort.

She had to do something. If she was to begin her apprenticeship with Professor Caveo, she would need to settle her mind about Harry, his scar, Snape, the potion, and countless other things before she could even dare to think about her future. She had to get information from someone, and, unfortunately, that was going to be very difficult to do. Rules needed to be broken, and tonight was the night to do it.

"Harry?" she asked, cautiously approaching his chair.

He turned to look at her. "Hey there, Hermione. How are you?"

"I am fine. How are you?"

He pondered her for a moment. "I'm alright. You don't really look so hot. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Oh!" she gasped with a slight giggle, thinking that after her fainting spell, she must look pretty rough. "I felt a bit sick earlier, but I'm better now. I promise." An uncomfortable silence passed between them. "Could I ask a favor, Harry?"

His face lightened into a rare grin. "Could I really expect to say no?"

"Perhaps not." She laughed, and he joined in. "I was wondering if I could borrow your Invisibility Cloak, though there's a catch."

"You don't want to tell me what you're going to do with it. Is that the catch?" He narrowed his eyes in mock anger.

"Yes, that's it. What do you say?"

With a sigh, Harry pulled the shimmering fabric from the pocket of his school robes. "Sure, only, if you get yourself into trouble, remember that I wasn't really involved this time."

Hermione grinned as she took the cloak. "Of course. You know that I always look out for you. Don't tell anyone you saw me," she whispered, looking about the empty common room. "I will be back before you know it."

Without waiting for Harry to respond, Hermione wrapped the cloak about her and exited Gryffindor Tower.

She trod as lightly as she could through the halls, encountering so few people that she could have sworn she was slipped some Felix Felicis. There was no one near the front doors of the castle to see her slip through them, closing them silently behind her. Feeling safe, she sprinted beyond the gates of the grounds, panting heavily before Apparating wandlessly to Hogsmeade. She hadn't even intended to do it without her wand in hand, but her magic had suddenly taken over and set her on the right path.

The streets of the town were relatively deserted, so Hermione was able to slip the Invisibility Cloak from her body and pull up the hood of her winter cloak to hide her face. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see, plastered on nearly every building, posters that caused her stomach to lurch. The posters displayed a picture of Severus Snape, taken in the middle of a candid scowl, with the words "Have You Seen This Wizard? Wanted: Severus Snape, for the murder of Albus Dumbledore" beneath it. She shook her head and continued walking.

Moving through the village, Hermione came to a dark side street and eyed the familiar sign that displayed a bleeding boar's head. Her determination increased, and she slowly pushed the door of the Hog's Head tavern open.

Though Hermione had been here before, she was never prepared to see the inside of the place. It was filthy and filled with wizards and witches of the lowest possible reputation. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a hooded hag, ostensibly offering services to a short and stout wizard, and at least three wizards were slumped drunkenly in their stools at the bar. Quickly, she spotted the subject of her highly illegal trip out of the castle and pulled her cloak about her more tightly as she strode to the bar.

"What do you want?" Aberforth Dumbledore grumbled at her, clearly nonplussed by her refusal to lower her hood.

"I want to talk," she replied evenly, not daring to let any hesitation enter her voice.

"Good luck finding that here," he spat before slamming a dusty bottle of butterbeer in front of her. "You're obviously too young for firewhisky."

Hermione summoned her courage as well as her Silent Speech and allowed her words to enter his mind. "I want to talk to you."

He shook his head and looked at her with suspicion before his words entered her head. "What about, girl?"

Hermione was taken aback by his ability to use the obscure communication measure, but continued. "I need to speak with you about your brother. And Severus Snape." She looked directly into his eyes to assure him that she was deadly serious.

"I believe I can give you a room of that type rather cheaply, Miss," he drawled out loud as he motioned her away from the bar. Silently, they entered a small room behind the bar, a room Hermione recognized as the one from the Pensieve memory that McGonagall had given her.

Once they were inside, Aberforth pulled out his wand and cast some Silencing and Locking Charms around the room. He motioned for Hermione to sit down at the table, and he took the seat across from her.

Hermione lowered her hood and drew a leer from Aberforth. "Ah, I know you. You're the Granger girl. Brightest witch of your age ever, they say."

"Well, I don't know about all that," Hermione replied with a chuckle, "but I am Hermione Granger."

"I'd tell yer who I am, but I think you've worked it out, eh?" He smirked, and, for the first time, Hermione could see the trademark Dumbledore twinkle in his eye. "Now, you want to talk about my brother and Snape? Why would you come to me?"

"Sir, do you remember a memory you gave to Minerva McGonagall, one that contained a conversation with Professor Dumbledore right in this very room?" Realizing that this was not a man who liked to beat about the bush, she got straight to the point.

Aberforth's face twisted into a scowl that was shocking on his Albus-like features. "I regretted giving it to her the moment the strand left my head. What's she been doing, letting everyone have a look?"

"No, sir, just me. I went to speak with her, and we ended up talking about Professor Snape, and she gave it to me in the hopes that it would give me some closure about the Headmaster's… murder." Hermione faltered under the intense gaze of the barman.

"That woman calls herself loyal to Albus, yet she hasn't shown one wit of loyalty since he died! Imagine, Severus Snape some cold-blooded killer! It's absurd!" Aberforth waved his wand over the table, and a glass of firewhisky appeared in front of him.

"So you two really were talking about Harry? About Harry turning evil?" Hermione's determination returned.

"Of course we were!" he roared, drowning his firewhisky. "I merely gave her the memory in the hopes that she would be able to work out what to do for yer friend. Obviously, it was a stupid move on my part. I thought that witch would have shown more sense!"

"I know you don't know me, sir, but I need you to be honest with me. The fate of our world could depend upon it." She gazed at him with grave seriousness.

"Albus always talked about yer, you know. Thought of you like a daughter, he did. I'll be as honest as I can, for his sake." He waved his wand over the glass, and it refilled.

"I can't go into great detail, sir, but I think I know why Harry is showing signs of evil, and I think I may know how to change it, but the only person who can help me is Professor Snape. I need you to tell me, to the best of your knowledge…" Hermione took a deep breath. "To whom is Snape really loyal?"

Aberforth chuckled and paused for a moment. "Himself."

"Himself?" Hermione repeated, astounded.

"He's a true Slytherin, he is. Life hasn't been fair to the poor boy. I will tell you this: Albus knew that Snape was going to have to kill him. He never gave me any details, but he knew what was going to happen, and it seemed like he thought everything would be alright as long as someone in the Order understood. However, nothing is alright now, is it?" He stared into his glass.

"No, it isn't," Hermione replied with a sigh, turning her butterbeer bottle about absentmindedly.

"I'll tell you this, because this is all I know for certain: if yeh need Snape, and you can find him and get him away from those Death Eaters, I'm sure you can use some of that Gryffindor persuasive power to get what you need from him. Albus certainly always did." He gazed at the fire for a moment. "He's a complicated man, but he was always loyal to Albus, and they earned each other's trust over the years."

"So you don't think him evil?"

"I don't think that anyone is beyond redemption, Miss Granger." His tone suggested that he had nothing further to say on the matter. "Now, something tells me that you are currently breaking at least five of Minerva's precious school rules?"

Hermione allowed herself to laugh. "At the very least."

"Then I can trust you not to tell anyone that we are about to break another?" He raised his eyebrows at her in amusement.

"I suppose that would rather depend on the rule," she chided dryly.

"Well, being the brother of the most powerful wizard in the world has some benefits, such as this rather useful Floo connection. A Floo connection that just happens to take one wherever they would need to go, such as a Head Girl's room at Hogwarts. Just as an example." He chucked, and they stood to move to the fireplace. He held out a pot of glistening green Floo powder to her. "Whatever you do, be on your guard, and trust no one. This situation is about to get a whole lot uglier before all is said and done."

"Yes, sir. Thank you for the drink, and the conversation." She smiled and took a handful of powder.

"Think on what I said. Farewell." He backed away from her.

She stepped into the flames, calling, "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Head Girl's room!"

Nearly tumbling from the fireplace, Hermione removed her outer robe and used some simple cleansing spells to eliminate all traces of her Floo travel before reentering the Gryffindor common room. Harry was still sitting there, alone, watching the flames in the fireplace.

"Thanks again, Harry." Hermione walked around to the front of the chair, holding out the precious cloak to her friend.

"No problem," he answered, though any trace of humor he had before she left was gone.

"Where is everyone? Surely not gone to bed already?"

"I don't know. They sort of sauntered off after I got here." He continued staring at the fire. Had he not been speaking to her, Hermione would have sworn he had no idea she was there.

"Oh. Well, I have some studying to do. I'm going to take my N.E.W.T.s early and become an apprentice to Professor Caveo!" Hermione tried to cover over the awkwardness between her and Harry, an awkwardness that grew from the mutual knowledge that the common room had cleared because of a growing fear of Harry's unpredictability.

"Congratulations, Hermione, though we all know you're heads above the rest of us." A small smile passed over Harry's face.

"Thanks, Harry," she replied with a blush. "I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

He sighed. "Of course. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Harry."

As she poured over nearly six and a half years of notes and books, Hermione's problems were not forgotten, but merely pushed to a back corner of her mind. She was going to begin her training for her career, yes, but what was she going to do about the Animus Redimio and Snape? She knew that she should trust what Aberforth had said, but it was difficult to do without hard facts. She had watched Harry's memory of Dumbledore's murder many times recently, trying to read the emotions playing on Snape's face. What sort of rage were his features expressing? Was it rage with himself for what he had to do, or rage with Dumbledore for imprisoning him as a disloyal member of the light for so many years? Was he disgusted with Dumbledore, himself, or the situation in general?

Part of Hermione wanted to believe that Snape was good. After all, if he were, she had more hope of tracking him down to get him to help her with the potion she believed would save Harry's life in a confrontation with Voldemort. She had to find a way to remove Voldemort's soul from Harry. He was becoming too unlike himself to allow him to slip any further down the inevitable path to total darkness.

She climbed into bed, heavy with all that had happened in one day. She was still puzzling over her fainting spell in the dungeons, but she realized that Caveo was probably right: Hermione was under too much stress. Perhaps devoting herself to an apprenticeship would allow her more focus, and perhaps somewhere in her training she would stumble across the formula for the Animus Redimio potion. Then she wouldn't have to wonder about Snape's loyalties, for she wouldn't need his help at all.

As she drifted into sleep, she found herself on the stairs with Dumbledore once again. He looked up at her from his place, prostrate before Snape, and spoke. "They know, Hermione. He knows not what he does. They know."

What did any of it mean? Strangely, Hermione felt that it didn't even matter anymore. There were some mysteries she wasn't meant to solve. All she could do was focus on one at a time.

A week after her conversation with Caveo, Hermione sat for her N.E.W.T. examinations with a select number of special representatives from the Ministry, all of whom were delighted to be participating in the academic triumphs of Hermione Granger, friend of the Chosen One, Harry Potter. She sat for eleven exams and received top marks in all of them. She had insisted on taking all of the possible exams, save Divination, even though she had not been sitting in all of the classes.

No one, least of all Professor Caveo, was surprised that her Potions score was tied for highest marks of all time with just one other Hogwarts student: Severus Snape. Of course, this fact was muttered by all present, and Hermione wondered if her name would simply replace his in the record books.

Hermione was relocated to a set of apprentice rooms in the dungeons to be near Professor Caveo for her training and to assist him with his classes. She thought about how things would change now. She was no longer a student, but she was assured by the Headmistress that her new status would not change her relationships with her friends. This was bollocks, of course, because Hermione knew that their relationship had already changed. Ron was absorbed in trying to gain the affections of some other willing woman, Harry was turning more and more peculiar as the days went on, and Hermione was completely preoccupied, not only in her new studies, but also in her attempts to master wandless magic and Silent Speech. They were drifting apart at a time when they needed to stick together the most.

The words of Aberforth about things getting a whole lot uglier soon played over and over again in Hermione's mind, and she knew that when they did, she, Ron, and Harry would need each other more than ever. The way things were going, however, they would be lucky to be speaking to one another by the time the final confrontation was upon them. It was with these fears that Hermione threw herself into a dark and cold December as a Potions apprentice.


	8. Things that Go Bump in the Night

_A/N: A round of applause, if you please, for my wonderful beta, anogete. Thanks also to my wonderful readers and reviewers who give me the motivation to press on!_

_Obligatory: None of these things belong to me; they all belong to JKR. I just like to have a bit of fun with them, and no profit is desired._

--

"Miss Granger, would you please be so kind as to grade these first year essays for me? I simply cannot face them, and, sadly, as my apprentice, it falls to you to do the dirty work." Professor Caveo eyed Hermione with something akin to amusement.

Hermione smiled indulgently and took the stack of parchments from him. "Methods of Extraction and Uses of Bubotuber Pus?" She laughed. "Oh dear, what did the little ones do to deserve this?"

"Am I that transparent?" He held up his hand. "No, don't answer that. I suppose that I am. I got frustrated with them for being completely…"

"Insufferable?" Hermione offered. At his furrowing brow, she explained, "It's okay, the older students are used to being set essays for our insufferability."

"Good Merlin, certainly I've not been compared to Snape, have I?" Caveo snatched a parchment from the top of Hermione's pile and eyed it carefully.

"Not that I've heard, sir," she answered playfully.

"Thank the gods for that." He considered the parchment for a moment.

Hermione hesitated, but decided that there was no harm in asking the question that had been burning in her mind for quite some time. "Sir, did you know Professor Snape well? I know you must have known him somewhat."

Caveo looked up at her with an unreadable expression before laying the parchment back on the desk between them and settling back into his seat. "Yes, I did. I knew him very well, actually. Our families were… friendly, and though he was a few years older than I, we would kick around potion theories from time to time. Well, he would kick them around, and I would listen." He noticed Hermione's blushed cheeks. "Is that really what you want to know, I wonder?"

She laughed nervously. "I don't know, I suppose I'm not really sure what I want to know. He's just such an enigma to me with his double and triple life. Perhaps more lives than that, for all that I know."

"And so he was, even in his youth. Do you remember the conversation you and I had about what makes some potions dark?" Hermione nodded. "Severus was always conflicted about the question of dark potions and dark magic. He believed, as many of our friends did, that the dark was simply the other half of the light. For him, the two were not at odds; they simply made up the seamless whole that makes our world possible."

"Like the pagan belief that things can be and are both at the same time?" Hermione's inquisitive nature got the best of her and she couldn't stop the question from escaping her lips.

"Quite," Caveo replied with a smirk. "It is not a belief shared by many witches and wizards you have met, and thus he was always a theoretical outcast in the mainstream of our world. Beyond that, I cannot hope to explain to you the enigma that is, and will always be, Severus Snape." He watched as Hermione studied her hands with a look of consternation on her face. "Well, it is getting late, so I think that you should retire."

"I'll have these essays back as soon as possible, sir." Hermione began gathering the parchments and stuffing them into her bag.

"No rush, Miss Granger. I am sure that the students are not anxious to receive your rather demanding marks." Caveo leaned back in his chair and smiled.

"I have only been assisting for a few weeks, and already they find me demanding?" Hermione stared back at him in confused awe.

"It is a good sign for your future as an instructor. They must learn that you are their superior, not their friend."

"I am a Gryffindor, sir. It is possible for us to be both." She grinned back at him as she headed for the door.

"I suppose that only experience will show you otherwise. Goodnight." He inclined his head at Hermione in dismissal, and she returned to her rooms to go to sleep.

The first few weeks since she sat for her N.E.W.T. exams and became a proper apprentice were more enjoyable than Hermione had expected. Though she was still quite busy with all of her work, in addition to her studies of advanced magic, she found that she loved working with potions and helping out the younger students in classes.

She was haunted every night by her dreams, however, and she became more and more resigned to having them. Whatever Dumbledore was trying to tell her about someone knowing something, and Snape not knowing something, and that she needed to do something about Harry, it was not becoming any clearer as the nights went on. All she knew was that she needed to find a way to help Harry, and that if there was some small chance that Snape wasn't as evil as people thought, he might be the key to helping her. Her stomach lurched every time her mind wandered in that direction. Was even her body so opposed to the idea that Snape wasn't just some cold-blooded murderer and Death Eater?

The night before everyone was set to leave for holiday break, Hermione sat with Ron and Harry around the fire in the Gryffindor common room. The boys were leaving on the train to spend the holiday at the Burrow, and Hermione was going to Apparate there after she had finished some work with Professor Caveo.

It felt good to be sitting there with her friends for once, like they had when things were simpler. Still, it was hard to ignore that things had changed.

"I don't understand why you have to stay here alone with him, Hermione. He's been working you to death as it is. Don't you deserve a break?" Ron asked for what seemed like the hundredth time that week.

"I am an apprentice now, Ron. I have a lot of responsibilities, and, as an apprentice, if Professor Caveo tells me that he needs my help, it is my obligation and duty to help him!"

"Give it a rest, Ron, honestly." Harry rolled his eyes and poked his wand towards the fire, causing the flames to leap about more earnestly. "There are other things to worry about right now."

"Have you given any thought to where the last you-know-what could be?" Hermione lowered her voice and glanced around the room to see if anyone was listening.

"Loads. I just can't work it out." Harry rubbed at his scar. "He's going to make a move at some point, though, I can feel it. If I can't destroy the last one by then, we'll all still be forever at his mercy."

"Have you talked to Remus about it? Maybe he would have some ideas." Hermione watched Harry's eyes as they sparked red along with the flames in the fireplace.

"We're going to talk at the Burrow some more." Harry didn't say more, and it was clear that he was not keen on discussing the situation.

"Speaking of the Burrow, I've got to pack!" Ron exclaimed, jumping from his spot on the floor.

"I thought you never packed until the last minute the morning you're set to leave?" Hermione smiled openly at her friend.

In a rare return to their old days as friends, Ron smiled back. "I'm trying to be more efficient in me old age. Isn't that what you always wanted?"

Hermione ignored the implication that Ron was working on his efficiency in an effort to please her. "Well, it's good to see you taking my advice for once!"

"Right. Goodnight, you two. I'll see you in the morning."

"Hang on, Ron, I'm coming with you." Harry stood up as well. "Goodnight, Hermione."

"Goodnight, boys."

Slowly, Hermione walked out of Gryffindor Tower and back to her rooms in the dungeons, Harry's words laying heavy on her mind. If he did possess the final Horcrux in his head, it would have to be removed before whatever the final confrontation with Voldermort was. If it wasn't, she feared that the bit of soul in the scar would simply take over Harry's body, and he would be reborn as Voldemort Part Deux. That would put Hermione and so many others in the position of being forced to kill their own friend.

As she drifted into sleep, her dreams were once again filled with the staircase and Dumbledore. Hermione was shocked, however, when Dumbledore rose from the ground, grabbed her by the shoulders, and whispered, "Beware, Miss Granger. They know." He nodded towards the other Death Eaters on the stairs. "He knows not what he does." He nodded towards Snape. "It's all in his head!" He glanced over at where Harry stood, invisible. Dumbledore shook her hard again. "Beware, Miss Granger. They're coming!"

"Who's coming?" she gasped into the darkness of her room.

To her amazement, she was answered, but the reply was simply a whispered, "Stupefy."

--

"Well, what a pleasant surprise!" came a voice from the recesses of Hermione's consciousness. The voice was familiar, yet the unbearable pain in her head and stomach were not. "Look, everyone, we've got a visitor."

Hermione would know that voice anywhere. Malfoy.

Slowly, she tried to shake herself into reality. Surely she was just having another very bad dream, right? After all, who could possibly come into her room unnoticed in the middle of the night and Stun her?

However, the cold, hard floor beneath Hermione suggested to her more rational side that she was not in bed, dreaming. She was recovering from a Stunner, and she was on a very cold, hard floor. And Malfoy was there.

"Oh, wake up, Granger. We've got to do without Enervates around here, so you have to shake it off!" came Malfoy's voice again.

"Piss…off…" Hermione gasped as she attempted to get her vision to cooperate.

"She's going to live, friends! Have no fear!" Hermione felt hands come under her armpits that gently dragged her across the floor and propped her up against a wall. Slowly, her vision went from black to slightly fuzzy.

"Where am I?" she muttered as she took in the dismal sight with her foggy eyes.

"The DA cordially welcomes you to The Cell, Granger."

Hermione looked up to see Draco and several other teenagers looking back at her, all in various states of injury and filth. "The DA?"

"Draco's Army," came Draco's even reply.

"How original," Hermione muttered, rubbing her eyes until she could see clearly. She was in a small room with no furniture, no windows, and no door. She didn't need anyone to tell her that this clearly was a cell, but where it was, she couldn't say. "So what, you've kidnapped me, and now you're going to torture and kill me?"

"Well, you have been kidnapped, and you may be tortured and killed, but I am your fellow captive, not your captor." Draco held up a hand to the people behind him, and they relaxed into seated positions on the floor.

"What are you playing at?" Hermione's expression was a mixed one of pain and anger.

"I'm not playing at anything. This is the Death Eater Manor, and you, me, and this lot are all prisoners. And, believe me, Azkaban is probably a cakewalk compared to this."

"It's a trick. You're pretending so that you can get information out of me." Hermione narrowed her eyes at Draco, though she noticed his torn robes were speckled with blood, one of his eyes was blackened from what looked like a punch, and there was a faint boot print on his throat.

"This is no trick, I assure you. But we'll get to all of that if we have time before one of us is killed. First, however, let me make some introductions!" Draco stood up and moved behind the ragged group facing Hermione. He placed his hand on top of the head of a raven-haired girl and stated, "This is Lieutenant Elizabeth Harrup."

"Pleased to meet you, Miss," answered Elizabeth, nodding at Hermione.

Draco moved onto the next girl, who had clearly been the victim of a crude Scalping Hex. "This is Lieutenant Jane Martin."

"Your servant, Miss." Jane smiled slightly.

Draco placed his hand on the shoulder of a young blond man sitting next to Jane. "This is Captain Andrew Harrison."

"No relation to George, Miss," Andrew added sheepishly.

Draco patted Andrew lightly on the back before moving onto the next girl. "This lass is Major Angelica Hughes."

Angelica raked a shaky hand through her short, dirty blond hair. "Hullo."

"And, finally," Draco announced before placing both his hands on the shoulders of an emaciated redhead, "I am pleased to introduce Colonel Jeffrey Lowsley."

"Good to have a new recruit, Miss." Jeffrey reached out to shake Hermione's hand. She accepted the gesture, though she was bewildered.

"So, I suppose that makes you the General, Malfoy?" she asked, though her voice had lost its edge.

"That's right, Granger. But we don't pay much mind to rank around here. After all, we all have a common cause, so we all have to work together." He looked back at his army with what looked like pride. "What do you say, kids, should we make this one a Cadet?" The others nodded enthusiastically. "Don't worry, Granger, you'll make Lieutenant after your first beating."

"You beat your cadets?" she asked incredulously.

"Me?" he replied with shock. "Never! I mean the enemy. We're prisoners of war of the DEA. The Death Eater Army. It is our solemn duty to fight against them for freedom. Well, for our freedom, mostly." He sat back down on the ground.

"How were you captured, Cadet Granger?" Angelica asked with concern.

Hermione found the situation almost laughable. Here she was, imprisoned at the Death Eater Manor, with Malfoy and five other prisoners, all of whom were clearly losing their minds. It very nearly made her forget how completely terrified she was. "I don't quite know. Last I remember, I was in my bed at Hogwarts, and then I woke up here."

"Who brought her in, General? Did you see?" Jeffrey asked.

"It was a masked baddie, so it couldn't have been Lucius, Snape, or the Lestranges," Draco replied thoughtfully.

"Masked baddie?" Hermione was growing more confused by the moment.

"Yeah, some of the enemy wear their masks, so we don't know who they are." Elizabeth fingered a bruise on her wrist.

"Alright, now, listen, Cadet Granger, we need to tell you some things before we're interrupted by the enemy. When anyone from the DEA is here, we just lay low. They don't know that we've organized ourselves. They're dangerous, Cadet, and you must not resist them. They will do unspeakable things to you, but you must be brave. Do you understand?"

"Why are you being so nice to me, Draco? I'm just a Mudblood, after all." Hermione felt the reality of her situation settling over her.

"And Jane is a Squib, but we don't hold it against her." He smiled wickedly at Hermione's disbelieving scoff. "Listen, I have been a complete shit, I know that, and, let's be honest, I'm still a complete shit. But right now, we have a common purpose, which is to get out of this hell hole alive. When we do, we can replay our usual pureblood versus Mudblood games. Now, however, we have to fight."

"How are we fighting by not resisting?"

Before Hermione could get an answer to her question, one of the walls facing her suddenly turned into bars with an iron door on the other side of them. Everyone in The Cell abruptly began pretending that they had not been speaking to each other at all, and were simply staring at the floor. From the door, she could hear a cackle she knew could only belong to one person.

"Ah, Auntie Bellatrix, to what do we owe the honor of this visit?" Draco drawled with disgust.

"Shut up, Draco. I've come for the Mudblood." Bellatrix whipped out her wand.

"Which one?" Draco looked around at the non-responsive group behind him.

"I told you to shut up. Incarcerous." Bellatrix's spell caused everyone in The Cell to be bound by some invisible force, save Hermione, who looked up at the evil witch with horror. "I've come to make you more presentable, Mudblood."

Before Hermione could spit at Bellatrix, an Imperius Curse was upon her, and she found herself walking towards the door of The Cell. She tried to fight the instructions in her head, but she couldn't. The freedom she should have felt at being under the curse was diminished by her vain attempts at breaking Bellatrix's control over her. She was walking through a deserted corridor, towards another iron door. Bellatrix spelled the door open, and Hermione was thrust inside. Once the door was closed behind them, Hermione was released from the Imperius.

"Well, Mudblood, it is my unfortunate job to clean you up. Scourgify! Scourgify!" Bellatrix cast the cleansing spell at Hermione several times, until it felt like her skin was on fire. Too scared to do anything to resist, including wandless magic, all she could do was allow Bellatrix to do whatever it was to her that she wanted, which seemed to include fixing her hair, stripping her naked, and dressing her in ridiculous emerald-colored robes that looked like they belonged on a wealthy pureblood woman.

When she was done, Bellatrix stepped back and regarded her work. "Well, you're still filth, but I suppose, considering who's getting you, you'll do."

"Getting me?" Hermione spat, unable to contain her anger any longer.

"Silence!" Bellatrix bellowed before striking Hermione across the face. "You are a gift for one of the Dark Lord's servants. A Mudblood is sufficient for a sex toy."

Hermione sickened at being described in such a way. Bellatrix was disturbing enough as it was, but to have her casually telling her that she was likely going to be raped by a Death Eater made her even more of a monster than Hermione had ever imagined.

"Now, let's go." Bellatrix pulled Hermione up by her arms and pushed her out of the door, her wand sticking in her back. It seemed that Bellatrix got more of a thrill out of Hermione's movements being controlled by her own fear rather than by magic.

Without the haze of the Imperius, Hermione was able to chance a look at the halls through which she was walking. Everything around her had been decorated in shades of green and silver, though the place itself looked as though it had been abandoned for quite some time before the Death Eaters had taken it over. Still, it radiated with a very strong aura of dark magic, so strong it was almost stifling.

In the midst of her bewilderment, she found herself standing in front of a dark wooden door, a door that appeared to be her destination. Bellatrix grasped her arm tightly and banged on it.

"Happy Christmas. I've got your whore for you. Open the damned door!"


	9. The Christmas Boon

_A/N: I'd like to send a few barely-clothed Slytherins to my lovely beta, anogete! And some also for my fabulous readers; here's the moment you've all been waiting for!_

_Obligatory: None of these things belong to me; they all belong to JKR. I just like to have a bit of fun with them, and no profit is desired._

--

The long nights of December stretched out before Severus like so many years of solitude. Though he had been given the freedom to move about as he pleased, he found that he had no desire to go anywhere. Since he had come to the manor, a tightness in his chest had grown more pronounced, as though his soul were dying a slow death whilst the shell of his body lived on, mechanically brewing the most banal of potions.

Sitting in the chair before the fire in his room, Severus considered suicide for the first, but certainly not the last, time. With his wand, there were many creative possibilities. Some may see it as the coward's way out, and, since he was no coward, he pushed the thought from the forefront of his mind.

His reverie on his own mortality, mediated by a glass of firewhisky, was broken by an unwelcome pounding on his door, accompanied by the shrill voice that could only belong to Bellatrix Lestrange. "Happy Christmas. I've got your whore for you. Open the damned door!"

With a grumble, Severus raised his wand and removed the wards from his door. He rose and threw it open. "What is the meaning of this?" he roared, before he had a chance to see that Bellatrix was not alone. The tightness in his chest became acute.

"The Dark Lord has decided to give you your reward, and here it is. Enjoy." Bellatrix sneered before making to walk away.

"What in the hell am I meant to do with this?" Severus motioned towards Hermione, who stood paralyzed, wearing what looked like the robes Narcissa Malfoy had worn in her youth.

"I don't give a shit what you do with it, Snape, but as it is a filthy Mudblood whore, I suggest you get your use out of it. The Dark Lord does request that, if you are going to be out of your room, you return it to The Cell with the other trash." Bellatrix stalked away after roughly pushing Hermione past Severus into his room.

After glaring at Bellatrix's back, Severus closed the door and spun around to regard the young woman prostrate on the floor in front of him. "Sit in the chair, Miss Granger."

"Please don't hurt me, sir," Hermione pleaded as she looked up at him with tears in her eyes.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," Severus muttered as he pulled her up by her arms and deposited her in the armchair by the fire. "I do not know what Bellatrix told you, but I am not in the practice of forcing myself on anyone, and I will only hurt you if you give me reason to." Sitting in the chair opposite her, he pinched the bridge of his nose. "How on earth did you come to be here?"

Hermione stifled a sob, and replied, "I do not know."

"Then give it your best shot." He meant for it to come out more sarcastically, but he had been taken so unawares by the deposit of Hermione at his door that he found he could not be more menacing.

"I…" Hermione hesitated as she glanced into Severus' dark and forbidding eyes. "I was at Hogwarts, in my room, sleeping, a-and the last thing I remember is someone Stupefying me before I woke up in The Cell."

"You were kidnapped from right inside Hogwarts?" Severus chuckled. "If we are able to get inside the castle, I wonder why we do not just take Potter and have this whole business over with."

His words had the intended effect this time, and Hermione cowered in her seat. "I don't know, sir." Hermione sniffed, the tears flowing silently down her cheeks.

Severus tapped his fingers together and looked at her blankly. "Well, it seems that we have a problem, Miss Granger. I have no desire for your company, yet I cannot deny a gift from the Dark Lord when it is given. It would mean death for us both, and even if it did not, your fate would be even more unpleasant."

"Yes, sir." Through her fear, Hermione remembered that she did doubt this man's loyalties, and that if there were any small chance of getting the information about the Animus Redimio potion from him, she now had the chance to do it.

"I know you to be loud mouthed and annoyingly inquisitive, Miss Granger, and I do not wish to have your prattling intruding upon my silence. I will make a deal with you. If you can learn to speak only when spoken to, you may remain here so long as you attempt not to make yourself a nuisance to me. In return, I will only put you in The Cell when I am leaving the room. Do I make myself plain?"

"Yes, sir." Hermione held back a sigh of relief.

"Very well. Now, I must go thank the Dark Lord for his…boon, so I must return you to The Cell for a short time. Play the part of the obedient servant well, and we shall have no problems. Yes?" Severus rose from his chair and moved towards the door.

"Yes, sir." Hermione hesitated before standing up, and, in that moment of hesitation, Severus was upon her, grabbing her by the collar and leading her into the hallway.

They walked silently back towards The Cell, Severus nearly dragging Hermione by her robes. She tried to make herself move faster, but her fear and fatigue made walking difficult. Without a word, Severus unwarded the door and the bars, and shoved her in with Draco and the others.

"Godfather! What an unexpected surprise!" Draco smiled wickedly at Severus.

"See that the Mudblood does not get into any trouble while I am gone, Draco." Severus eyed the crumpled girl on the floor suspiciously.

"Can't make any promises, but I'll do my best." Draco glanced menacingly at Hermione.

"Careful, Draco; she is my property now." At these words, Hermione shuddered and let a small whimper escape her lips. "I will be back for her soon." Severus exited the room, and the bars and door were once again replaced with a wall.

As soon as he was out of sight, Draco rushed towards Hermione's prone form, and the rest of the DA followed him. "Granger? Are you alright? Have they hurt you?"

Hermione looked up with disbelief, the sting of Bellatrix's slap still fresh on her face. "Am I alright? Look at me! I've been given to Severus Snape as a slave!"

"Consider yourself lucky," Angelica quipped. "I'm Lucius' slave, and, believe me, I can't imagine anyone being worse than him."

"You're Draco's father's slave?" Hermione glared at Draco.

"Don't look at me like that! She's his slave, and I'm his punching bag. How many times do I have to tell you that we're all in this together?"

Hermione turned to Angelica. "Does Lucius, you know…" Hermione flushed with embarrassment.

"Rape me? No, he isn't man enough for that. I'm just his amusement. He touches me occasionally and makes lewd comments, but that's about it. I never get let out of here, so you're pretty lucky." Angelica brushed off the information she was giving Hermione with ease, as though she were resigned to her fate. "He does it to Jane and Elizabeth too, but he likes blonds, so I'm sort of his favorite."

"I wouldn't worry about Snape, either. Do you know he actually comes in here and talks to the General? I mean, they don't talk about Quidditch or anything, but sometimes it's almost like he's concerned for him." Andrew let out a deep laugh.

"Sometimes it's priceless, really. The General's in here because of him, and he waltzes in for chats like they're old friends."

"Now, now, Angelica. It isn't my godfather's fault, not really. If he hadn't killed Dumbledore for me, I would have been killed for letting him live." Draco rubbed at his black eye.

"Letting him live?" Hermione scoffed. "What is that supposed to mean, that you didn't really plan on doing it?"

"Of course I didn't plan on doing it! I had to agree to kill him to save my father and my mother, but I knew that I would never be able to do it." Draco moved closer to Hermione. "Think, Granger! Whatever kind of unforgivable prick I am, I am not a murderer. Prejudiced, power-hungry, and arrogant, yes, but not a murderer. I thought that I would get the Death Eaters in, put on a good show, and get killed or be taken by the Aurors. Then my darling mother had to mess it all up by involving Severus and his sense of godfatherly loyalty. I was toast from the moment I came back to Hogwarts last year."

"So you aren't, or weren't, rather, a Death Eater?" Hermione couldn't process all that she was learning.

Draco shoved up the tattered sleeves of his robes. Aside from bruises, there were no marks on his forearms. "I was just trying to save my family. Tell me that you wouldn't do the same! I was confronted by the people who have shaped the environment in which I was raised with a plan to save the parents I loved, and, Dumbledore be damned, I was going to do whatever it took."

"But he died anyway." Hermione frowned.

"If I may, General?" Angelica placed her hand gently on Draco's bared arm.

"Of course." Draco nodded slightly.

"Cadet Granger, I've been here with the General for a couple of months now, and, while he did hate Dumbledore for what he represented, it was never his wish for him to die. The General was raised differently than we were and saw Dumbledore in a different way. We may not like what his family represents, but the General loved his parents, and it was the only way out for him." She rubbed Draco's arm comfortingly.

"Then why are you here?" Hermione looked back and forth between Draco and Angelica.

"It seems that my father feels differently about family. When the Dark Lord tracked me and Severus down after the murder, my father laughed at me when they put me in here and magically disowned me for failing to kill Dumbledore myself. The Dark Lord was never going to kill my father for the disaster at the Ministry. Lucius was too important to him for that. They set me up, and, like an idiot, I fell for it. Now, I am a convenient scapegoat for everyone's failures." He patted Angelica's hand.

"Did Snape know any of this?" Hermione's eyes were now wide with wonder.

"I don't think so. The way I understand it, my mother put on a really good show with Auntie Bellatrix to get him involved. Don't be fooled, Cadet Granger. Severus isn't as in the loop as he makes out he is. No one really trusts him enough with anything important. I realized that when I figured out that, rather than being entrusted with my life, he had unwittingly been bound to sacrifice it."

"Then what use does the Dark Lord have for him now?" Hermione rubbed at the tender spot on her cheek.

"That's one of the bits we haven't been able to figure out," Jane admitted, sadly. "No one's really talking about it."

"What are the other bits?" Hermione asked.

"What they're going to do with them." Draco nodded towards the rest of his companions. "It isn't really Death Eater style to go around kidnapping people and imprisoning them just for fun. If they wanted fun, they would just go kill some Muggles and be done with it."

"So, you said that Jane is a Squib, so that means that the rest of you are…?" Hermione looked around at her fellow captives.

"Yes, I'm a Squib, Elizabeth is a pureblood whose parents are blood traitors, and the rest are Muggleborn."

Hermione scratched her chin thoughtfully. "But none of you were ever at Hogwarts, were you?"

"No, we weren't," Angelica answered. "Elizabeth is a home-schooled witch, and the rest of us were sent to very small magical academies. There are several relatively secret ones in the United Kingdom for those without the means to go to Hogwarts, or for Muggles who don't want their children to be too far from home for so long."

Hermione sighed. "It's amazing. I've been in the magical world for almost seven years, and yet I still feel like I understand nothing about it."

"You asked before you were taken away by Bellatrix how not resisting is going to help us. The answer is simple. They're never going to let us go, and they will likely kill us, so it doesn't matter much to them what they say around us. The more information we get, the better chance we have of finding out something that will help us get out of here and tell someone where here is. You are now in the best position to get the most information!" Draco was nearly giddy.

"He will never say a word to me. I don't even know that he's not going to… oh, Gods." Hermione clutched at her stomach as sickness radiated through it.

"What's wrong, Cadet?" Andrew propped Hermione up against the wall.

"She's just upset." Angelica stroked Hermione's hair almost lovingly. "I can't promise you that things are going to be okay, because none of us know our fate for certain, but you have to be strong."

"Thank you." Hermione turned her tearstained face from Angelica to Draco. "Gods help me if it's folly, but I choose to believe in you, Malfoy. We have to come up with something to do to get out of here."

"Congratulations. You've just been promoted to Lieutenant, Granger."

--

After depositing Hermione in The Cell, Severus stalked towards the main audience room. It wasn't usually recommended that one went without being summoned, but now that he had been saddled with his boon, he thought it wouldn't be amiss to extend some thanks, even if he didn't mean it.

He found Rodolphus standing watch at the door, and he inclined his head to him. "Lestrange."

"Ah, Snape, I take it my wife has delivered your Mudblood to you? What are you doing wandering about and not enjoying it?" Rodolphus slapped Severus on the back playfully.

Severus sighed. "I thought it prudent to extend my thanks for the present to the Dark Lord before I began taking liberties."

"Of course, of course." Rodolphus moved aside and opened the door. "The Dark Lord is just finishing his evening meal, so I am sure he would not mind your intrusion."

"Thank you." Severus nodded to Rodolphus again and moved swiftly into the audience room. He threw himself on the floor before Voldemort and kept his head down.

"Severus," Voldemort hissed. "I thought I might be seeing you."

"My lord." Severus kissed the hem of his lord's robes. "I came to express my gratitude to you for your fine gift. I am certain that I will put it to good use."

Voldemort chuckled. "Oh yes, the Mudblood Granger girl. Do you know why I have given her to you, Severus?"

"Bellatrix indicated that she was for my amusement." Severus rose from the floor and stood before Voldemort, keeping his head bowed.

"That as well, of course, but I thought to give her to you as an assistant." Voldemort studied his Potions master.

Severus cocked an eyebrow and chanced a look up at the fearsome lord. "An assistant, my lord?"

"Of course. I have it on good authority that the girl has recently been made a Potions apprentice at Hogwarts, and that her skills presently rival your own at her age. I have no one else to spare to help you in brewing your draughts for our cause, so I hoped you might be able to put the girl to good use."

Severus bowed his head again. "It is most gracious of you, my lord, but I am getting on quite well brewing our potions without assistance."

Voldemort laughed a horrible and dark bellow. "And so you have been thus far. But certainly you do not expect me to have you go on making such simple brews? No, it would be a waste of your talents. I will soon be assigning you some other potions that will require all of your attention, thus the Mudblood will be necessary to make the simpler ones. Do I make myself plain?"

"And if the girl refuses to help us?" Severus kept his voice steady, though he was full of curiosity at these other brews he would be asked to make.

"I am certain that you will be able to use what you know about her from your previous association to make her comply. I have faith in your, shall we say, persuasive abilities." Voldemort's eyes danced with an evil red twinkle.

"Thank you, my lord." Severus bowed down deeply again.

"Your fear of me is good, Severus, but you need not worry about feeling my wrath as you did when you first came. I tortured you then as a reminder of the absolute importance of following my orders, but your fine motor skills are far too important to me now to risk. See that I continue to feel this way. You may go." Voldemort waved his hand in dismissal.

"Yes, my lord." Severus turned and exited the room as swiftly as he had entered it.

Rodolphus remained stationed at the door and eyed Severus with amusement as he reentered the hallway. "I trust your visit went well?"

"Indeed, Lestrange. Have a pleasant evening." With that, Severus stalked back towards The Cell, his brain boiling still with having the girl thrust upon him. His thoughts were also occupied with questions about what he was going to be asked to do if he managed to obtain the girl's cooperation.

If he knew the Gryffindor mind, however, obtaining said cooperation would not be easy. Their damnable courage was not easy to overcome.

Standing before the invisible door to The Cell, he felt his chest tighten again. Here he was, a self-made prisoner, with his only friend, solitude, taken from him by the intrusion of the bushy-haired chit. It was true that he grew tired of making Calming Draughts and Healing Balms, but did he really want her living with him so that he would be free to do other things? Why did he feel compelled to accept the boon and see that she came to no harm at the hands of his companions? Why not just leave her for Lucius to enjoy? He felt no desire to rape the girl, but that did not mean that he cared for her wellbeing or safety. She was Potter's champion and insufferable, yet now he was about to enter an indefinitely long captivity with her.

Had he really sunk so low?

Shaking off his thoughts, he revealed The Cell and glided inside to retrieve the girl. He found her curled up against the wall, clutching her stomach, whilst the other prisoners stared at the ceiling blankly, hardly acknowledging his presence.

"Come, Miss Granger, we are returning to my rooms." He grabbed her once again by the collar.

"Yes, sir," she replied wearily, though suddenly she dropped her hand from her stomach and breathed more easily.

"Take it easy on the poor Mudblood, Godfather," Draco barked as the strange pair made for the door. "After all, it's been refreshing having a fresh face around here."

"Good night, Draco," was Severus' only reply as he returned the wards to the door and took off with Hermione toward his chambers.


	10. The Apprentice

_Many thanks go out to one of the best betas ever, anogete. More thanks also to my faithful readers and reviewers; I am so flattered that you are all enjoying this story so much!_

_Obligatory: None of these things belong to me; they all belong to JKR. I just like to have a bit of fun with them, and no profit is desired. _

--

Hermione sat dutifully and silently on the edge of one of the armchairs before the fire in Severus' room. She didn't dare speak, as he was pacing furiously in front of the door, his chin tucked tightly between his thumb and forefinger, and his face twisted into the ugliest of expressions.

By all rights, she should have been terrified. It was all well and good to imagine that she could convince him of his place on the side of good when she was tucked in her bed at Hogwarts, but it was entirely another to consider it when she was his prisoner in a house full of Death Eaters. Still, he had not yet been unusually cruel to her, so things were off to a promising start.

She was twisting the fabric of her uncomfortable and unsightly robes between her fingers when she noticed that he had stopped pacing and was standing before her, staring at her, his hand over his chest.

"There are some things that we must discuss, but I believe that it will have to wait until morning. Today's events have worn on my nerves, and I would like nothing more than to have a drink, a vial of Dreamless Sleep potion, and a very long rest. For now, I will simply ask you once again to hold your tongue and stay out of my way."

Hermione kept her gaze locked on the floor. "Yes, sir," she answered meekly.

"The Dark Lord expects me to get my enjoyment out of you, so it will not amuse him to find that I have been sleeping on the floor while you have rested in the comforts of my bed. If it is not too distasteful for you, you may share my bed, but you must cover yourself and never touch me. Do I make myself clear?" He bent down and whispered the last words threateningly in her ear.

"Yes, sir." Hermione felt a riotous tear fall from her eye as she spoke, but she swallowed back the whimper that desperately wanted to accompany it.

"Very well. Stand up." He backed away and waited for her to comply. When she did, he pointed his wand at her.

"Please don't hurt me." The words slipped uncontrollably from Hermione's lips.

"Will you cease that nonsense?" Severus roared. After a few moments, he controlled his temper and spoke again. "I have no desire to see you traipsing about in this costume Bellatrix has given you, so you will have to forgive me if I lack knowledge of teenage fashion trends."

A few flicks of his wand later, and Hermione felt her hair tumble back around her face. She looked down to discover a grey jumper, conservative black skirt and black tights. She certainly wouldn't have picked the ensemble for herself, but it was considerably better than the trash with which Bellatrix had outfitted her.

"Is that acceptable?" Severus eyed his handiwork with mocking amusement.

"Thank you, sir." Hermione looked at the bed out of the corner of her eye and trembled. He had been nice to her thus far, but what was to become of her in this room? To what test would she be put? What pain would she experience? How much of herself was she about to risk? Part of her told her to trust Severus, to recognize his behavior as an attempt to protect her, but the other part screamed for her to remember who he was, and to remember that, whatever fancies she held, he was still in a position of favor enough with Voldemort to get a sex toy for a gift.

"Stop standing there like a bloody fish out of water and get ready for bed! The necessary is through that door." Severus pointed at one door, and then the other. "That one is off limits unless you have my permission. Do you understand me? Because I will not hesitate to punish you if you disobey me."

"I understand, sir." With her head lowered, Hermione moved towards the bathroom to make ready for bedtime. She initially wanted to ask him if she was to have any kind of clothes in which to sleep, but she thought better of it. One set of all-purpose clothing was better than nothing.

Staring at herself in the mirror, Hermione thought of the absurdity of the entire situation. All this time, she had been wishing to find some way of bringing Severus Snape back to the side of light to help her save Harry, but she never really allowed herself to believe that she would ever have the opportunity. Now, she had been kidnapped - by whom, she still had no idea - and she would be spending a great deal of time with the man who had occupied her thoughts for so many weeks. What was she to do now?

She was too tired to think about it for too long, and, obediently, she exited the bathroom and dashed to the bed where she silently slid in and perched herself on the very edge. She didn't hazard a glance at Severus, who was standing next to the fire in silent contemplation.

Some time later, she felt the mattress compress next to her and it awakened her. He did not touch her, and he did not speak, but his breathing was deep and unsteady, as though he were trying to force himself to be calm and fall asleep. She never found out if he did sleep, because she was herself pulled back into slumber, and when she awoke, he was already pacing about the room.

"Get up, Miss Granger. You need to eat and get yourself together. You must make haste, because I have some things to tell you, but then I have some errands to run and must return you to The Cell." He clenched his fists and sat down in one of the armchairs before the fire.

Hermione rubbed the sleep from her eyes and got up to relieve herself and splash some water on her face. There was a bathtub, but she didn't want to test Severus' temper by insisting she take a shower. She hoped desperately for the opportunity to do so soon, as she wasn't sure how long Bellatrix's cleansing charms would keep filthiness at bay in this place.

She came out to find that he had coffee and muffins for her to eat. It wasn't very much food at all, especially for an English breakfast, but she didn't find that she felt up to eating too much, even if she could muster the courage to speak up about it.

Severus sipped from a mug of black coffee and stared at her as she ate. As requested, she ate as quickly as possible without looking like a pig, and she kept her silence as she had promised.

Severus' voice suddenly sounded in his most controlled of tones. "The Dark Lord tells me that you have taken your N.E.W.T.s and have begun an apprenticeship in Potions."

"I have, sir."

"Yes, well, despite your heritage, he believes that you can be of some use to us, aside from my own physical gratification." The corners of his mouth twitched up into a smirk before returning to a more sour expression.

"Use, sir?" Hermione shuddered at the thought of being of 'some use' to Voldemort.

"Yes. I detest working with others, Miss Granger, and, even more so, I hate Gryffindors and am particularly annoyed by you. Were things not as they are, I would dispose of you now to save myself much trouble. You should be grateful, then, that things are as they are." He cleared his throat.

"I am grateful, sir." She held back her tears.

"Good. As you may have guessed already, the other door here leads to a laboratory, one that I use to prepare potions for the Dark Lord and my fellow Death Eaters. I have got along quite well by myself, but now the Dark Lord feels that I need some assistance as the need for potions increases. He has decided that my assistance is to be you." He sighed in irritation.

"You actually expect me to help Voldemort?" Hermione's disgust at the suggestion got the better of her, and she blurted out the words.

"Do not say his name!" Severus' eyes burned with anger as they bore holes through Hermione, but he quickly regained his composure. "Yes, I do, if you are anything resembling a rational human being."

Hermione had played the part of the obedient servant for far too long, and she felt compelled to test her captor. "A rational human being would not give aid and comfort to the enemy, sir."

"Are you really going to sit there and tell me that you would refuse to make healing potions for the Dark Lord and risk death?" Severus chuckled. "You are more insufferable than I thought, and certainly more stupid."

"It would be akin to betrayal if I were to save the lives of the people trying to kill my own friends!" Hermione's façade of cooperation broke down completely, and her cheeks were heated.

"You will do as I say!" Severus roared, rising from his chair and pacing in front of the fire, his hand returning to his chest as he grimaced. "I will be ordered to kill you if you do not!"

"Then you will have to kill me." Hermione knew that it was a bluff, but she attempted it nonetheless.

"Do not test me, girl, for I will not hesitate to end your meaningless existence if you disobey me. If you wish to get out of here alive, you will make the potions I ask you to make. If you wish to maintain this ridiculous bravery in the face of danger that is so irritatingly characteristic of your house, you will likely be put in the hands of Lucius, or worse, Bellatrix."

The words had their intended effect, and Hermione shuddered with fear at the thought of her fate in the hands of Lucius Malfoy. However, his comment about bravery in the face of danger as a characteristic of her house made her think about Dumbledore, and the comment gave Hermione some hope that her theory that Dumbledore knew what Severus would be forced to do may be correct.

Still, she could not resist pushing the envelope a bit further. "And what precisely will you be doing whilst I am making Calming Draughts and the like, sir?"

"That is none of your business," he snapped. "Will you accept this challenge, or will you be foolhardy?"

Hermione's eyes shone brightly with defiance, but her voice was steady and saccharine. "If it is your wish, sir, that I assist you, then I will do it."

"It is not my wish, but as it is the wish of the Dark Lord, it must necessarily be mine," he grumbled. "I warn you not to attempt any tricks, however, for while you may be the least moronic of Hogwarts students, I am still a Potions master and not ignorant to the ways of sabotaging the most innocuous of brews."

"Yes, sir." Hermione allowed herself to relax minutely.

"Now, in light of your return to sensibility, I must speak with the Dark Lord, so I will be returning you to The Cell." Severus motioned towards the door. "I will not be long. Behave yourself with the others, and there shall be no problems. Understood?"

"Yes, sir." Hermione stood and looked into his eyes steadily for the first time.

"Good. Let us go." Without so much as a backwards glance, Severus made for the door.

They walked in silence, Hermione just a pace behind, and encountered no one on their way to The Cell. Once there, Severus silently unwarded the door and motioned for Hermione to go inside. As usual, Draco and his ragged army sat motionless on the floor, presumably pretending to sleep.

"I will return soon," Severus told her quietly, before turning and disappearing behind the wall.

"Alright, you lot, you can wake up now," Hermione announced, taking a seat next to Draco.

"Welcome back, Lieutenant. Would you like some breakfast?" Draco held up a piece of stale bread with a grimace.

"No, thank you," Hermione replied with a smirk. "I don't know how long I'll be here. Snape said he has to go speak with the Dark Lord about something, so I'm sure he'll be back soon."

"Did you find out anything?" inquired Draco.

"Nothing terribly interesting. I have apparently been selected to make healing potions for the enemy so that he has time to do other things." Hermione let out a sigh of irritation, still sore over the fact that she would need to help Voldemort in order to attempt to save her friends.

"Other things? What kinds of things, exactly?" Elizabeth suddenly perked up.

"I don't know, but I can only assume that it's to brew other, more complicated, potions. Hopefully I'll be able to figure out what he's up to while we're working together."

Draco rubbed at his temples. "He'll be making dark potions for sure. This is a very interesting development."

"You mean to tell me that they've had the best Potions master in the United Kingdom making Blood Replenishing Potion all this time and nothing dark?" Hermione was becoming more and more bewildered the more information she gathered.

"I know, it is very strange, but I get the feeling that it's been some kind of test. Whatever the test was, he's passed it now and has moved on to the next one." Draco tapped his finger to his lips in thought. "I think that we should take this as good news, however. Perhaps if you can figure out what he's making, we can figure out the enemy's plan. Are you familiar with dark potions?"

"It's pretty much all I've been studying in Potions for the last several months. Did you know that there is a potion made with Doxy skin that gives you the uncontrollable urge to eat your own flesh?" Hermione shuddered, remembering how Caveo had described the potion's effects.

"Potions are a nasty business, to be sure. Be alert, Lieutenant. You must attempt to determine what they're up to." Draco relaxed back against the wall next to Hermione.

"It will be difficult, for sure. Severus is not exactly thrilled about getting me as a gift, so it's likely that he won't be too happy about me peeking at length into his cauldron, so to speak." Hermione frowned.

"Has he hurt you?" Draco asked in a hushed and almost concerned voice.

"No, not yet. He's actually been rather kind to me. Well, kind for Severus Snape, I suppose." Hermione tugged at her jumper.

"I see he gave you some new clothes. Thank the Gods for that; those robes Bellatrix gave you were hideous!" Angelica chuckled as she fingered her own torn black robes.

As if on cue, the wards on the door melted away. Hermione expected to see Severus standing before them, but instead she saw Bellatrix there with an evil smirk on her face.

"Good morning, nephew and Mudbloods all. I've just come to say hello!" In greeting, she shot some kind of hex at Angelica that caused her to roll over in pain.

"And good morning to you, dear Aunt. What a pleasure it is to see you, as usual." Draco looked up at her with fierce hatred.

"I aim to please, nephew, as I would like to show you." She placed her wand inside the sleeve of her robes and glanced back and forth between Draco and Hermione.

Without a word ever having been spoken, Draco suddenly got to his feet as if entranced. Hermione didn't have time to wonder what he was doing before she felt the Imperius on her again, this time causing her to get onto her knees just inches from the General. As she fought to get free of the curse, she could see Draco doing the same to no avail.

Suddenly, Hermione found herself reaching up to unbutton Draco's trousers slowly. In her mind, Bellatrix told her to 'suck the traitor's cock like a good little Mudblood slave.' Despite her best efforts, all Hermione could do was comply.

As she reached out to stroke Draco's limp member, his voice sounded in her head, presumably through Silent Speech. "Good Merlin, Granger, fight it! Don't give in!"

"I can't, Malfoy; she's too strong!" Though not a tear had spilled from her eye, her silent voice was sobbing.

"This is all some sort of trick. You have to fight it. If Snape comes in here…"

But Draco never got to finish the sentence, because, without warning, Snape stormed back into the room as Hermione was about to place her mouth around Draco's growing erection.

"What is going on in here?" Snape roared to no one in particular.

Bellatrix cackled. "It seems your little chit was unsatisfied by you, Snape, and had to find enjoyment elsewhere." Hermione could see her carefully replace her wand back into the pockets of her robes, and she suddenly got the feeling that this whole incident had been staged.

Pushing Draco aside, Severus stood before Hermione, still on her knees and staring up at him with tears in her eyes. He pinned her completely motionless with his outraged stare before drawing his hand back and striking her so hard across the face, she felt as though her cheek were split in half. The pain and shock caused her to begin crying uncontrollably.

"I will deal with her," he snapped at Bellatrix before yanking Hermione up by her collar and dragging her back to his rooms.

As they walked through the halls, Hermione could feel the unadulterated rage emanating from Severus. For the first time, she truly began to fear him.


	11. Test Patterns

_A/N: Many more well-deserved thanks to my beta, anogete, for her help with this story. Also, thank you to all of my readers and reviewers; some of you are getting dangerously close to figuring out some of the mysteries in this fic!_

_Obligatory: None of these things belong to me; they all belong to JKR. I just like to have a bit of fun with them, and no profit is desired. _

--

After he had rid himself of his unwilling assistant, Severus stalked towards the audience room. He had received word of a meeting with the Dark Lord that morning from Wormtail. Apparently, he was to learn of the first round of new potions he was to create and place his order with the Gryffindor rat for ingredients.

He was weary, for he had spent all night contemplating how to deal with the Granger girl. She had proved more sensible than he had given her credit for, though it was not surprising that she resisted him at first. He wondered why he had not just taken her initial refusal as her final answer and handed her over for the amusement of one of his companions. He couldn't imagine how he could possibly tolerate her presence while he was engaged in his craft, but some part of him felt that it would bring relief from the boredom he had been experiencing while making such ridiculously simple potions.

Why her, though, he wondered. Certainly some Slytherin student could have been more willingly obtained from Hogwarts, someone he would not need to convince to help him. There was some deeper meaning to her being deposited at his door, but, try as he did, he could think of no reasonable explanation. One could be torture, of course, as his anxiety over the situation had made the pain in his chest unbearable.

'Merlin, I'm getting old,' he thought to himself as he approached the door and tried to steel himself against the pain. Perhaps a heart attack would relieve him of all the burdens he felt at present.

He found the audience room open, with many of the higher-ranking Death Eaters standing silently before the Dark Lord's empty chair. He took his place next to Lucius, and looked around to see all unmasked Death Eaters, with Bellatrix Lestrange conspicuously absent from the side of her husband.

As soon as everyone had taken their places, Wormtail led in the fearsome lord. The Dark Lord looked uncharacteristically pleased with something, and so Severus assumed that whatever plan was being hatched was going well.

As he took his seat, all of the assembled Death Eaters bowed deeply before him. He enjoyed their subservience for a moment before motioning for them to rise.

He wasted no time in communicating their instructions to them through Silent Speech. In Severus' mind, the commands of his master sounded. "Severus, I would like for you to inform Wormtail of all of the ingredients necessary for an extensive supply of the most terrible, misery-inflicting potions in your mental arsenal. We will be attacking our enemy on all fronts, and poisoning them where they feel safe will be invaluable when our final strike comes."

Almost immediately, Severus began thinking of all of the complex brews he could create that would soothe the irritation he had felt at being resigned to making potions he could make in his sleep. He was as giddy as a man like Severus Snape could be at all of the possibilities now laid before him.

When they were dismissed, he sought out his sniveling personal shopper and provided him with a foot-long parchment of rare and expensive ingredients. If the Dark Lord wanted the most terrible potions in his arsenal, he was going to get them.

"Are all of these really necessary, Severus? Where am I supposed to find some of these things? Peruvian Manticore blood? Fresh Pogrebin eyeballs? Are you serious?" Wormtail's eyes were wide with bewilderment.

"And here I thought the Dark Lord assigned you this task because he assumed you up to the challenge. If you are not, I am sure that someone else can be found to replace you." Severus placed special emphasis on the last two words.

Wormtail opened his mouth to make a smart retort, but all that came out was, "You'll have it all by tomorrow." His head lowered, he stalked away.

Sufficiently amused, Severus made to retrieve his help from The Cell. He could only hope that she could hold her tongue long enough for him to derive some enjoyment from his new task.

When he got to The Cell, he found that the door was already open, and Bellatrix was watching the activities inside with amusement. To his horror, he saw the Granger girl panting on her knees before his godson, ready to take his manhood into her watering mouth.

He was absolutely furious, and the calm that had recently taken him was replaced with rage. "What is going on here?"

Bellatrix's whole body shook with thinly veiled delight. "It seems your little chit was unsatisfied by you, Snape, and had to find enjoyment elsewhere." She made a quick move to pocket her wand, ostensibly hidden in her sleeve, but she wasn't quick enough to keep Severus from seeing it. Severus began to sense a set up, but, if he were being fooled, he would have to play the part.

With hardly any hesitation, he moved in front of Hermione and slapped her as hard as he could across her face. Instantly, the ache in his chest stabbed through him like a knife, and his composure nearly melted away like ice in a hot cauldron. He could see her composure fade away as well, and the instant explosion of tears sickened him. "I will deal with her."

Without looking back at Bellatrix's smug face, he grabbed Hermione by her jumper and dragged her back to his rooms. He could feel the fear emanating from her trembling form, while his own body shook with anger.

Once they were inside his rooms, he released her into a pile on the floor and slammed the door shut. He took a moment to settle himself before turning towards her. "What on earth were you thinking?"

The girl reached up and wiped a tear from her cheek. "It wasn't my fault, sir. I didn't do anything!"

"Do you think me an idiot? That little charade of Bellatrix's could have fooled her husband, but it did not fool me. Certainly you know how to throw off the Imperius Curse? I know Crouch taught it in your fourth year, and I am told you studied it with Potter during your clandestine meetings. Did you learn nothing?" He knelt down on the floor in front of her and roughly pulled her face up to look at him.

"She was too strong. I couldn't fight her. What was I supposed to do?" Her tears flowed freely down her face, and she reached up to brush them off her very sore cheek.

With an unintelligible mumble, Severus pulled out his wand and pointed it at the source of the pain he had caused, casting a healing spell. "Listen to me very carefully, because I will say this only once. Everything you do here, everything you say, has the potential to be scrutinized, interpreted. Whether you are in The Cell or walking in the hallway with me, you are being watched. In here, you are safe, because I have secured the rooms with very strong wards to prevent anyone from intruding on my business, but outside of here you are not safe. You were tested today, and, as of yet, I do not know if you passed or failed."

"What could what happened possibly prove to anyone?" Hermione gasped through the silent sobs that were shaking her body.

"There is no way to understand the mind of someone like Bellatrix. Be on your guard, do you understand? I have tried to tell Draco to do the same, but he is as stubborn and prideful as his father has always been." He stood from the floor and sat down with exhaustion on his chair by the fire.

"I understand, sir, and I am sorry." She followed his lead and propped herself up in the other chair.

"What exactly did she say to you when she was controlling you?" Severus stared at her intently.

"She told me to suck the traitor's cock like the filthy Mudblood whore that I am. Or something to that effect." Hermione rubbed at the cheek Severus had slapped and then healed.

"I had to strike you. I would apologize, but I cannot be sorry for playing my part in what goes on around here. You are my property, and, as such, I have to treat you like property. When you betray me, I must punish you. I thought that I had made that very clear before." Severus waved his hand, and a glass filled with firewhisky appeared in it.

"I know, sir." Hermione's voice was steady, and, while obedient, still hinted that she was losing her fear. Severus tried to pry into her mind to determine her true mental state, but, much to his surprise, he found it closed.

"You have learned Occlumency, I see. A better study at it than Potter. Impressive." Severus chuckled darkly. "It will not save you here, however. The Death Eaters have other ways of obtaining information."

"I have nothing to hide, sir." She looked into the fire.

"We shall see." Severus got up and made for the door that concealed his lab. "Are you coming, Miss Granger, or must I drag you again?"

"I'm coming, sir." With a sigh, Hermione rose and followed him into the lab.

Severus watched as Hermione surveyed the lab with barely-concealed awe. He had used spells to enlarge and illuminate it, and some of the finest equipment he could get Wormtail to locate filled its every corner. He smirked inwardly at her response; so few people took an interest in the art of potions, that it was actually something of a relief to him that, if he had to be saddled with help, at least it was respectful help.

He pointed her towards a smaller table with a number two pewter cauldron on it, steaming with a freshly brewed Headache Potion. "That will be your work station. I will give you some more cauldrons so that you can work on more than one potion at a time." He moved to two large cabinets with glass doors. "These are the supplies. The one on the left contains more common ingredients for you to use, and the one on the right is completely off-limits to you. You will not be able to open it, so I caution you not to try. Yes?"

"Yes, sir," Hermione breathed as she eyed her workspace with amazement. "What are we going to do first?"

"We are not doing anything. You will begin by making a batch of Dreamless Sleep potion, and I am going to do some reading. I shall be keeping an eye on you, so do not get any ideas about using the knives to which I have so kindly given you access to try to murder me and escape." With one last warning glare, he turned on his heel and returned to the main room.

Reassured by the sounds of the girl gathering the necessary ingredients, he turned towards his bookshelf and ran his finger along it until he found the book he was looking for: _Moste Dark and Dreadful Potente Potions_. It was going to be a long captivity locked up with the barely tolerable Gryffindor chit, but at least he was about to start having some enjoyment.

--

The next day, Hermione found herself being deposited back in The Cell after a very long and silent night making potions well below her level of skill. Now she understood why he had been so willing to accept her help; she didn't know how long she could make such simple potions with only this dour man for company, so she could only imagine how he had been feeling.

She had other things on her mind, however, like his warning that all of her moves were being monitored. This meant that it was possible that the Death Eaters knew all that was being said by Draco's Army in The Cell even though they only spoke when they were alone. She wasn't going to save herself unless she could save them too, so she knew they had to come up with a way to communicate without being heard. Silent Speech seemed to be the best option, though it may exclude Jane. It was all she could think of, however, and as they were short on other viable alternatives, it was going to have to do for the time being.

As soon as the wall reappeared and they were all locked securely inside, Hermione held her finger up to her lips when her comrades made to attack her with questions.

"I'm using Silent Speech. Don't say anything out loud. If you can hear me, blink your eyes once, and if you can respond, say something to me."

Andrew, Jeffrey, and Angelica blinked their eyes, and Jane, Draco and Elizabeth replied with "something." When all of them looked at Jane with shock, she smirked and commented, "There are some kinds of magic Squibs can do, you know. Besides, I come from a pureblood family. They spent a lot of money trying to teach me something."

"What's this all about, Lieutenant?" Draco asked Hermione, conscious of allowing all of them to hear his words in their minds.

"Snape told me that we are being watched in here and that they can hear everything we say. If we're serious about coming up with a plan of getting information and getting out of here, we need to be more cautious. We can't be heard, so I recommend that we only use Silent Speech to talk to one another. If you can hear it, it shouldn't be too hard to be able to use it."

"Just concentrate on making your words heard to specific targets. It may take you some practice, but you'll get the hang of it. If you've learned anything about Legilimency, the concept is roughly the same. You're just using your voice to get inside someone's mind rather than your mind's eye." Elizabeth smiled at those who hadn't mastered the skill kindly with the promise of further instruction.

"Why would they be watching us?" Draco asked to no one in particular, looking towards the ceiling as if determining how they were being monitored.

"I have no idea, but I have a feeling there is a lot more going on here than we know. I think that you were right that Snape doesn't know much about any plans Voldemort may have. He hasn't said exactly what he's been told to do, but I think that he's going to be making some pretty nasty things. He seems pretty excited to be brewing something complicated, and not really thinking about what's going to be done with them. If there is some master plan, he doesn't know about it."

"Very few people ever know what Voldemort's master plan is. Unfortunately, it seems that my godfather isn't one of them. We're missing something here." Draco rubbed his eyes. "Lieutenant, when you left, we were talking about how odd that whole incident with Bellatrix was with her trying to get you to, you know…"

"Yes, I know what she was trying to get me to do," Hermione interrupted with a smirk. "Snape knew that she was responsible."

"And yet she played it off like she just happened to walk in on it, almost like she was trying to get a rise out of him," Jane offered.

"I've been thinking about it too, and I can't come up with anything other than she just wanted to see Snape slap me. That doesn't really seem like Bellatrix's style, though. If she just wanted to see me slapped, she has already proven that she's more than happy to do it herself."

"What if she's testing the General's godfather?" Andrew's voice was so loud in his first attempt at Silent Speech that it made the rest of them wince. "Sorry, I'm just getting the hang of this concentration thing," he added more quietly with an embarrassed smile.

Hermione rubbed at her stomach, and Draco regarded her with a frown. "Still not feeling well?" he asked.

"I guess I'm just trying to digest all that's happened, so to speak." She smirked. "Do you think it's possible that the DEA doesn't trust Snape, and that they're using me as some kind of test?"

"The enemy is cunning," Draco replied with authority. "I wouldn't put anything past them."

"So what are we going to do?" Elizabeth asked, looking towards Draco.

"Nothing yet, my compatriots. We have only speculation at this point. Now, Jane and Elizabeth, you work with the others on Silent Speech. I must discuss strategy with Lieutenant Granger." Draco nodded his head in dismissal, and the others relaxed back onto the floor like they did when Death Eaters were in The Cell so as to look as inconspicuous as possible.

Draco closed his eyes and relaxed his head against the wall before speaking. "What's your general impression of Severus?"

"I don't know, exactly. He seems rather just like he was back at Hogwarts."

"What do you know about him? About his life?" Draco pretended to sleep.

"I know that his mother was a witch and his father was a Muggle. The rest is just speculation from things Harry told me about what he saw during Occlumency lessons…"

"I might have known his little meetings with Snape fifth year weren't remedial Potions. Severus would never volunteer to spend more time with Potter than absolutely necessary," Draco interrupted.

Though he wasn't looking at her, Hermione gave him an irritated look just the same. "Yes, so, as I was saying, the rest is just speculation. He didn't seem to get on too well with the other students in school, and it seems like his family life wasn't the best. Am I getting warm?"

"You're red hot, Granger. That Muggle bastard of a father of his was an alcoholic and abused him and his mother because he thought they were freaks for having magical abilities. While Severus was at home over the summer before his fifth year, his father beat his mother a little bit too hard and she died. Severus completely lost it. Not long after that, he hooked up with some other Death-Eaters-to-be at Hogwarts. They promised him that, if he joined Voldemort, he would get revenge on his father."

"I take it things didn't end too pleasantly for Mr. Snape?" Hermione asked wryly.

"To say the least. As proof of their commitment to the rights of wizards, they sent my father out to kill Severus' father in exchange for Severus' loyalty. They fed his hatred of Muggles, and they obtained his obedience. They made him feel wanted and respected at a time when he felt alienated from everyone and everything around him." Draco rolled over onto his side and regarded Hermione as she stared off into space. "Severus may appear confident and controlled now, but back then he was anything but. He was intelligent, manipulative, and powerful, yes, but he was alone, and he was angry. They played him like a fiddle, make no mistake."

"But was he really committed to what the Death Eaters and Voldemort were doing?"

Draco looked down at the floor. "I don't know."

"How do you know the rest, then?" Hermione's voice rang out with irritation in Draco's mind.

"No need to get testy, Granger. Everything I know about him, I know from what I have been able to pick up from my parents and their friends. He was something of a joke to everyone. He had once been in love with Potter's mother or something, and so they used to talk about how pathetic he was, and how they could manipulate him into doing anything, because he was so angry and desperate to make everyone pay for his suffering."

Hermione's eyes widened. "He was in love with Lily Potter?"

"Lily Evans at the time. And yes, he was, or rather he was besotted with her. They used to work together in Potions and got on pretty well, until he started hating Muggles after his mother died."

"If he was such a joke, why did Voldemort put him in charge of spying on Dumbledore? Wouldn't he want someone he could trust more to get him information?" Hermione was bewildered with all that she was learning.

"Honestly, I don't know. It never sat right with me, but my father never let on that anything was other than it seemed. A lot of Death Eaters were rubbed pretty raw that Severus stayed out of Azkaban and above suspicion after Voldemort's first fall, but no one seemed to blink when he resumed his position with them after Voldemort's return." He sighed out loud. "It never really seemed too terribly amiss to me until I found out that my dear mother and my lovely aunt went to him to tell him how I had been ordered to kill Dumbledore. My parents may have made him an honorary member of the family, but no one trusted him at all."

"I take it the Slytherin motto is 'Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?'" Hermione snapped with a smirk.

"See? You know more about the Wizarding world than you thought." Draco returned Hermione's smirk with one of his own. "From what I could tell, everyone thought he was Dumbledore's man. When they tracked us down, I thought for sure they would kill him."

"Why kill him when he had just proved his loyalty once and for all by killing Dumbledore?"

"That didn't prove a thing to them. They set him up. If my plan failed, he was the closest one to Dumbledore to do the job. If he was a loyal Death Eater, then he just did his duty, and if he was Dumbledore's man, it was guaranteed that Dumbledore would order him to go through with it to preserve his alleged place with the Death Eaters. They were probably never certain of what the truth was, so I just figured they would Avada Kedavra first and ask questions never. He served his purpose."

"So whose side is he really on?" Hermione knew the answer before Draco had a chance to answer. "His own, right?"

"Like every good Slytherin. Truthfully, from what I can see, I don't think that Severus even knows. He's never had much of a choice. He's made so many compromises to save his own neck, that I don't know if what side he believes in matters any more." Draco shook his head sadly.

"He makes a deal with one devil to get revenge on his father, and then another to stay out of Azkaban?"

"I think it may be even more complicated than that. If he did have feelings for Lily Potter, it certainly wouldn't have amused him to lose her to his arch nemesis. It probably amused him less that he was somewhat responsible for her murder." He sighed deeply.

Hermione scratched her head, overwhelmed with the realizations that were washing over her. "By telling the Death Eaters about the prophecy about Harry."

"Exactly. I can't tell you who, in his heart of hearts, he's loyal to, but I can tell you that it isn't as cut and dry as you might think. He's sharp as a knife and clever, and he's been a very good double agent, but, if you ask me, he's never had the opportunity to choose his path either way. With that many years unable to make a free choice, a man like him will snap eventually. Even a Slytherin can't keep up self-preservation for that long at the expense of his own dignity and freedom."

Hermione rubbed again at her stomach. "I have to tell you, I find all of this a little difficult to believe. Snape doesn't seem the indecisive type to me, nor the type to let others tell him what to do."

"That's exactly how he's managed to stay alive all this time, by seeming that way. I don't know how many people he's fooled, however, though I'm sure it's either everyone or no one. Something tells me that Voldemort is testing his loyalty because he figures Severus is on the side of the Order, but for some reason there is still some use to be had from him. You need to find out what that is. It's certainly something more than making big batches of Burning Potion."

Hermione grinned again. "You know about that one, do you?"

"It's a delightful little concoction, if you're into that sort of thing, of course." Draco faked an evil expression.

"Are you?" Hermione cocked her eyebrow at him.

"I was, Granger, but I've seen the light. Just call me Saint Malfoy."


	12. Snapshots of Captivity

_A/N: Because I can't say it enough: thank you to my beta, anogete, for all of her help with whipping my stories into shape. Thank you also to my readers for your support. If you see something you like or don't like, please feel free to leave me a review and tell me about it!_

_Obligatory: None of these things belong to me; they all belong to JKR. I just like to have a bit of fun with them, and no profit is desired. _

--

Despite the overall despair inherent in Hermione's situation, she found that her strange life was more tolerable than not. After she had convinced Severus that she could make simple potions to even his standards, he allowed her to work on more complex things.

Late in January, when they were working in their companionable silence in the lab, Severus walked over to her table and set a jar of a familiar ingredient in front of her.

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Wolfsbane, sir?"

He let forth a small and rare chuckle. "I am sure that an aspiring Potions mistress such as yourself knows what to do with this."

"Yes, sir," she acknowledged, fingering the lid of the jar. "I'll get on it as soon as I'm finished with this batch of Sleeping Draught."

"Remember not to use the silver knife," he quipped, gliding back towards his own work.

"I know, sir." Hermione sighed. Even at the times that he was ostensibly complimenting her by giving her more difficult work, he still found a way to belittle her.

She regarded him at work for a moment. Now, as he often did, he was standing over a bubbling cauldron with his hand over his chest. She knew that he had been taking a number of pain relieving potions quite regularly, and he often seemed troubled. Something was taking its toll on him, and he looked ill, but he never mentioned what it was that was bothering him.

They rarely spoke with one another, save for when he gave her instructions or informed her that it was time to go to bed or The Cell. Every once in a while, they would have a short discussion about potions theories, but they often ended as quickly as they had been started. She found that, though his manner was abrupt and often insulting, the time spent with him was more comforting than she had expected. Hermione only fell into feeling anxious and afraid when she was in The Cell, and her stomach ached with the uncertainty of her fate.

--

"He's been making small batches of that Heart Attack Potion I was telling you about. The funny thing is, despite everything we've been stockpiling, no one ever comes to pick the stuff up. We just store it in a cupboard in his lab and leave it there." Hermione gave Draco's Army her usual report through Silent Speech when she was deposited in The Cell one afternoon in February. Severus rarely said where he was going, and Hermione never asked. Wherever it was, he often seemed agitated when he returned.

"Maybe they're just planning one big offensive rather than little skirmishes," Jeffrey offered. "It would certainly decrease their chances of getting caught before they make their major move."

"That sounds plausible. I take it Severus hasn't mentioned anything about it?" Draco asked.

"I honestly don't think he knows or cares. He just seems happy to be left alone to his craft." Hermione frowned. "He doesn't look like he's doing well."

"I would imagine he's not. No offense, but he probably doesn't like being stuck with you all the time, and he most certainly doesn't like being out of the loop. After all, he's doing all this work on these potions, and they aren't even going to any use." Draco looked over at Angelica, who was looking at the fresh bruises forming on his face from the strikes Lucius had delivered shortly after Severus returned Hermione to The Cell. "I'm fine, love. Don't worry about me."

"I know. I guess it just sickens me that your own father comes in here and treats you the way he does, and then lets his friends have a go. Can't I worry about my own General?" Angelica rubbed Draco's arm affectionately, as was her custom.

"The General is strong, Angelica; don't you worry about him!" Andrew quipped. Hermione smiled at Andrew. It was difficult in their situation to learn much about one another, but Andrew reminded her of Fred and George with the mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

Suddenly, the door appeared, and Severus walked in, motioning for Hermione to come with him. "I'll see you later," she said to the others' minds as she made to leave.

Hermione and Severus walked quietly back to his rooms, and she noticed that he was looking more pale than usual, the grimace of pain fixed on his severe features.

Once inside, Severus warded his door and turned to her. "Was Lucius in The Cell after I left?" His black eyes danced with an unreadable expression.

"Yes, sir." Hermione winced as she thought about how Lucius had laughed when he drew blood from Draco's nose with a swift smack across his face.

"Does he abuse Draco regularly?" Severus asked, beginning to pace in front of the fire.

"Yes, he does. I'm not always there to see it, but apparently Lucius, Rodolphus, and Bellatrix all take their enjoyment from him." Hermione's eyes accused him silently.

"Do not dare ever assume that I have any responsibility for his state. Not that I have to justify anything to you, but I have never laid a hand on Draco." He looked at her with his usual glare of annoyance. Behind that, however, was genuine concern for the situation in which his godson presently found himself.

"I know that, sir." Hermione looked down at her feet.

"Does Lucius…" Severus trailed off for a moment. "Does Lucius ever touch you?"

Hermione looked up with shock before answering. "No, he doesn't."

"If he ever does, you are to tell me immediately, do you understand? I do not take kindly to my property being manhandled." With that, Severus turned and retreated to the lab.

Hermione sighed. Any time they got close to having a real conversation, he would end it with some belittling or insulting comment. Hermione wasn't sure if he meant it or if he was just trying to maintain some distance from her.

With one last glance into the fire, Hermione followed him to continue her work.

--

One evening in late March, Severus and Hermione had a rare visitor: Lucius. From the way Severus was behaving, it was difficult to determine whether Lucius was welcome or not; then again, such behavior was Severus' custom.

"Shall I send the Mudblood back to The Cell, my friend?" Severus asked casually, as he saw Lucius eyeing Hermione with a hungry stare.

"No need, Severus, no need. I just came to see how things were going." Lucius sipped some brandy from a large snifter.

Severus glared at Hermione, and she took her cue to return to the lab and continue working on her latest assignment, a batch of Veritaserum. She could still hear their conversation from her workstation, though she could not see them.

"Certainly such things do not interest you," Severus answered shortly.

Lucius laughed. "Perhaps potions don't interest me per se, but anything that is to be used in the service of our cause is my business most certainly."

"Of course. So you are here to inspect my work?"

"Can't a good friend make a social call?" Lucius asked as though wounded. "I just wanted to see how the two of you are getting on."

Despite the distance between them, Hermione could still hear Severus' sharp intake of breath. "Fine," he spat out.

"She is enjoyable for you?" Lucius' voice was drenched with amusement.

"She has freed up time for me to engage in more enjoyable pursuits," Severus snapped.

Lucius chuckled again. "I had rather thought that she would be an enjoyable pursuit."

"Let us not start with that again, Lucius. I am entirely too busy to entangle myself in that way."

Hermione shuddered at the thought that her bedding Severus was regular conversation with the other Death Eaters, particularly since the closest she got to bedding him was lying in his bed while he avoided sleep. She knew that he would occasionally get into bed with her, but he never touched her, and she never woke up to see him asleep. He never made any advances toward her, nor did he even allow the most accidental of touches. It was as though he was afraid that there was some danger involved in being close to her.

She found, however, that she longed for some kind of contact with him to know that he was real, that he was human. She was drawn to him, she worried for his health, and she was fascinated by the precision with which he carried out his work. More and more every day, as she saw how he withdrew into his room and avoided the rest of the Death Eaters, worried about Draco, and generally seemed tortured, she thought about her own thoughts on his questionable allegiance, and the General's thoughts on the same. Maybe he really didn't know what side he was on, and the indecision was wearing him more and more thin every day.

--

"Your father seems to have an unhealthy interest in my sex life with Snape. Why is that?" Hermione finally asked Draco during one of their Silent Speech chats together in The Cell, most of which turned to Severus and what Draco knew about him.

"Lucius is interested in sex. That's just the way that he is," Draco replied wryly.

"But why pester him about it? Certainly, if Snape wanted to have sex with me, he would have forced the issue by now." Hermione worried at her stomach as she often did in The Cell.

"For Merlin's sake, Granger. You are a Potions apprentice and working with the best Potions master in Britain, and you can't come up with something to take for your stomach?" Draco's tone was irritated, but his expression was one of concern.

"I don't really notice it when I'm not here. Maybe I just don't like being locked up with the likes of you." She smirked.

"Cheeky. Though I will admit, being trapped here can make one sick of the stomach." He looked on at his ragged army, all sleeping soundly across the way from where he and Hermione sat.

"What will become of us, Draco?" Hermione followed Draco's gaze, meeting the peaceful form of Angelica.

"I don't think that we're going to make it out of here. We're here for a reason, and I think the final outcome of that reason will be our deaths." He rubbed at his bloodshot eyes.

"I keep waiting for someone from the Order to work out where I've been taken and come and rescue me. Harry and Ron must be going crazy wondering where I've gone, to say nothing of my poor parents. After all the work that was done to secure the castle, it must have come as quite a shock that I was kidnapped from right inside of it."

Draco stroked his chin in thought. "You forget that even I was able to get Death Eaters into the castle."

"Oh, I haven't forgotten," she quipped with a grin. "But certainly Headmistress McGonagall and the other professors worked all summer to make it impenetrable. I still can't work out how it happened that I was so easily fetched. Or why."

"Haven't you been paying attention? They wanted old Severus to get laid! Merlin knows he needs a little distraction in his life." Draco chuckled and punched Hermione lightly on the arm.

Hermione laughed along with him before becoming very serious again. "But he has left me alone. He's had every opportunity, and yet he hasn't taken advantage of me. Why do you suppose that is?"

"Whatever you may think of Severus, that isn't the kind of man that he is. He's never really had relationships with women, mostly because I think that he's afraid that even sex would bring him too close to being compromised by his feelings." Draco appeared saddened. "I think that some kind of human contact could have made all the difference in the world for him."

"Do you think that it's too late? Don't you think that there is a possibility that he may still choose the side of good?"

Draco studied the ceiling. "No. I don't think that it's too late. It wouldn't be an easy task, mind you. If anyone ever offered him the choice, he would still think they were doing it for their own ends. He would need to do it of his own will, without the constraints of someone else holding some bargaining chip over his head."

"I have to try, Draco. He's been my only company these many months, and I think that there is good in him. It won't be easily uncovered, but I have to try to coax it out of him. I have to make him see that staying loyal to the Order is the best choice for him."

"You like him." Draco grinned knowingly.

"What do you mean?" Hermione gasped, affronted.

"Exactly what I said. You like him. It's not an insult, Granger. He is a good man, and I think you'd be the woman to make him see it."

Hermione studied him for a moment. "He deserves some happiness, Draco. If I have to be the one to give it to him, then I will."

--

Severus looked over at Hermione for at least the tenth time that evening. In just four months, she took on a role that no one had ever assumed in his life: that of a constant companion.

With the exception of the times that he left his rooms, he was never out of earshot of her. She had amazed him with her ability to keep her mouth shut most of the time, and spared him her usual barrage of questions. And there was no doubt about it: she had a knack for brewing potions. She was almost wistful when she was at work, gliding from cupboard to table to cauldron with hardly a sound, carefully preparing ingredients and lovingly adding them into the mixture.

It didn't take a Legilimens to figure out what was going on inside her head, however. Though she clearly loved the art of potion making, she was not happy to be making draughts that were to be used in the service of the Dark Lord and his army. Past their first conversation, however, she never said a word about it.

He could feel her eyes on him occasionally when they were working in silence, and he knew that she admired and respected his talents. She always looked the most haggard when he would retrieve her from The Cell, where she was often nursing a troubled stomach. However, when they were together, she seemed almost relaxed, and even his most vexing comments did little to deter her serenity.

For not the first time since their shared captivity, he wondered why he had allowed himself to be stuck with her. Surely he had no concern for her safety. He tried to tell himself that it had just been to relieve him of the banal potions he had made when he began brewing again for the Dark Lord, but somehow he knew that it was more than that. The answer was staring him in the face, but he didn't dare admit it. To do so would be to turn himself over to something he'd never wanted, something in which he'd never believed.

He had to maintain his distance. They had never got onto friendly terms in the time she had been there, and this wasn't the time to start. They would brew in silence, occasionally discuss potions, and then he would continue trying to break her spirit with insults and snide remarks about her appearance, her skills, and her insufferable Gryffindor bravery.

He was on the Dark Lord's side. He would assist in bringing down The Order. He would do this so that soon he could finally be rid of everything. Teaching. Spying. Double-agency. Captivity.

Hermione.

Gods, when had he started thinking of her as that?

He had to see this war finished to be rid of her. If he could not, it would mean nothing good for either of them.

--

Hermione felt as though she were standing on the precipice of something, staring just over the edge into the abyss, not knowing quite what lay beneath her. She was at the same time terrified of it and thrilled with the uncertainty of it since her life had become so boring and monotonous.

Almost mechanically, she began the initial steps of the Polyjuice Potion. Though she never felt right making potions for Voldemort, it was when she was making things like this or Veritaserum that she began to feel deeply conflicted. These were not for mere healing purposes; they could prove dangerous if used improperly, which they very often were.

She steeled herself to her task, however, as she had begun to feel as though the only way to find some tiny crevice in Severus' impenetrable armor was to be silent and work diligently. She had to hope that the opportunity would present itself, and she couldn't risk angering him or letting on what her plan was.

Why was she being so compliant, she wondered. After all, there was a brash part of her screaming out inside of her head that she had the means to escape, or to confront him at least. She hadn't used one ounce of her wandless magic skills since arriving, though she had thought of it often. Certainly there were anti-Apparition wards placed all around the manor, so attempting that was foolish at best. There was a slim possibility that a Portkey would work, but she couldn't be sure.

She had to face it. She stayed and refused to fight her situation because she was determined not only to save herself and Draco's Army, but she was also determined to save Severus. The answer was always so close to her, but she felt as though every time she reached out to touch it, it moved just far enough away to elude her.

With a small, inaudible sigh, she set back to her work. She became so lost in it that she almost forgot her surroundings.

"You are doing that incorrectly." Severus' voice startled her, and she very nearly knocked over the cauldron.

"I beg your pardon?" she asked, almost annoyed.

"You heard me. I said you are doing that incorrectly." He crossed his arms and glared at her fiercely.

"No disrespect, sir, but I made this potion in my second year…"

"With ingredients pilfered from my private stores," he interrupted, his silky tone shaming at the same time it was engaging.

"That is completely beside the point. I made this in my second year perfectly." She matched his expression and his stance, carefully setting aside her stirring rod.

"As I recall, you transformed into a cat, so I do not know that I would be boasting about my skills with this particular concoction if I were you."

Hermione began fuming inside. "That was only because I got the wrong hair to add to it. It had nothing to do with the potion!" With a final huff, she picked up the stirring rod once again and made to continue, purposefully looking away from him.

In an instant, he was by her side and gently grasping her stirring hand, following it in its motions. Hermione trembled at his touch, and suddenly, she felt a calm in her stomach that she had not known for a long time.

His voice was low and very nearly seductive. "Now, just here, you should add a counter-clockwise stir. Closer attention to these kinds of details will be necessary if you ever hope to move from a novice level apprentice to a Potions mistress."

Hermione kept stirring with Severus' hand over hers, their eyes locked. Everything stood still, and the very molecules in the air around them ceased moving. Hermione wanted to look away, but she couldn't.

Finally, it was Severus that pulled back his hand and stalked away. "When you have finished that particular portion of the brewing, make ready for bed. It is getting late."

Hermione shook herself back to reality and turned her attention to her work.

So many things were coming to a head, it seemed. If the escalation in Severus' work and his anxiety were any indication, something big was going to happen soon. The challenge was going to be figuring it all out before it was too late.


	13. Animus Discindium

_A/N: More mountains of thanks for my lovely beta, anogete. Thanks also to my readers; I love hearing your thoughts, so please leave me a review if the spirit moves you to!_

_Obligatory: None of these things belong to me; they all belong to JKR. I just like to have a bit of fun with them, and no profit is desired. _

--

Severus had hardly seen anyone apart from Hermione since her arrival. Occasionally, he would seek out Wormtail to get ingredients, go to the audience chamber to get instructions, or exchange impersonal words with Lucius, but usually he was working in silence with his unwilling and unwanted apprentice. It was both a comfort and a curse.

It was a rainy afternoon in early May when things began changing inside the manor. There was a sudden sense of urgency in the air, and his suspicions about the Dark Lord's plans coming together were confirmed when Lucius came to fetch him for a rare private audience with his master.

They walked in silence towards the room where the Dark Lord was waiting. Once inside, they both bowed deeply before their leader, the silence hanging in the air like fog.

"Severus, I have a very important assignment for you. Are you satisfied with your assistant?" The Dark Lord's voice was tinged with evil delight.

Severus rose slowly. "She is adequate, sir."

With a deep chuckle, the Dark Lord spoke again. "And her skills with potions? Are they adequate as well?"

Sensing he should be playing his part, Severus allowed himself to snort in amusement. "They are quite satisfactory, my lord."

"Good, because she will be important for your next task. I understand that you are, at present, the best Potions master in Britain, perhaps in the world. I have heard it told that you know the recipes for potions others only dream exist. Is this true?" His red eyes bore into Severus.

"I am acquainted with some obscure brews, my lord." Severus lowered his head as a show of modesty.

"Are you familiar with the Animus Discindium potion?"

Severus' head snapped up, and, in a rare show of surprise, he met the Dark Lord's eyes. As quickly as he looked up, he looked back down. "I am, my lord."

"How long would it take you to prepare it?"

"Unlike other complex potions which can take weeks if not months to prepare, the Animus Discindium takes less than a day. However, it also requires dozens of ingredients, both magical and banal, all prepared very specifically and with unique brewing procedures that require two brewers." Severus began to feel the pain in his chest like a knife.

"Can Wormtail get all of the items that you will need?" Almost as if saying his name summoned him out of thin air, Wormtail appeared swiftly beside the Dark Lord.

"It may take some time, but I believe it can be done within the week."

"He will have everything by tomorrow evening. I trust that the Mudblood will be able to assist you?"

Severus looked up again in surprise. "With proper supervision, I believe that she will be able to do her part."

"You don't sound so sure, Severus," the Dark Lord hissed.

"I am sure that she can do it, I am just a bit surprised that you would trust her with something as important as this. The Animus Discindium is one of the darkest potions ever to be created." Severus shuddered as he thought of it.

"I trust that you will be able to convince her to play the part of the obedient servant," the Dark Lord replied with a smirk. "Besides, she will be of little use to us once all of the plans are laid, so what she knows of them is of no importance."

Severus suppressed a small shudder, thinking of what possible use the Animus Discindium would be to the Death Eaters, considering death could be caused by any number of the other potions he was making. "Of course, my lord. It will be done as you say."

"Very good. Send for Lucius to bring me the potion when it is complete. Wormtail will go straight away to get the ingredients." The Dark Lord waved his hand in dismissal, and Severus took his cue to leave.

Lucius walked back with him towards The Cell, asking, "Does this not please you, Severus?"

"I do not understand your question." Severus kept his eyes locked on the hall before him.

"From what I understand of the Animus Discindium, this kind of brewing is what you were made to do. You should be delighted to have the chance to make it." Lucius patted the younger wizard on the shoulder.

"If it is what the Dark Lord desires, I have no other reason to be happy to make it," Severus replied with an obedient lowering of his head at the mention of his master.

"You speak well, Severus. Good luck with the Mudblood." With a smile, Lucius strolled away towards his own rooms.

Severus mumbled a curse under his breath and quickly retrieved Hermione from The Cell.

--

"You're asking me to help you?" Hermione looked at him incredulously as they both stood in the middle of the lab, each having recently bottled the potion on which they were working.

"The potion I must make requires two people to brew it, so I am demanding that you give me your assistance that I may complete the task the Dark Lord has assigned to me."

"Do I know the potion we'll be making?" Hermione's curiosity was piqued.

"I do not believe so. It is a rather obscure potion called the Animus Discindium."

Hermione felt as though her stomach had fallen somewhere around her ankles. "The Animus Discindium, sir?"

"Yes. It is a very old recipe for a very dark potion, one which will tear the soul from the drinker. This split has only been known to be healed by one other potion, and that is the Animus Redimio. To take the Animus Discindium is to take a draught of instant, almost irreversible death." Severus' eyes danced with near excitement at the thought of the potion.

"But many potions cause death. I don't see how this one sounds superior to any of the others." Hermione's face had paled and stayed white since Severus had mentioned a potion that was as familiar to her as it was elusive, the Animus Redimio.

"Many potions can be reversed by bezoars or other easily obtainable antidotes. The only antidote to this is the Animus Redimio, which is too complicated to brew and known to almost no one. There is almost no outsmarting this particular potion."

Hermione's mind began working on overdrive. This was it. This was the final test. If the Animus Discindium was as complicated and obscure as Caveo had made the Redimio sound, it was likely the sole reason Severus had been kept around. They had just been waiting to see what the best time was to give him the assignment.

Severus had been making dozens of different kinds of deadly potions, but this one seemed different. It wasn't likely to be used to kill scores of Muggles; it was probably going to be used to perpetrate a very important murder, possibly that of Harry. And Hermione was being asked to be complicit in its brewing. It made her sick.

But, Hermione reasoned, she would be killed if she did not help. If Severus had been kept alive to reveal the secret of the Animus Discindium, she had been kept alive to help. If she refused, all chances of warning anyone about the possible uses of this new potion would be gone. A voice in the back of her head also reasoned that this was the first glimmer of hope she had about finding out the mysteries of the Animus Redimio that had so eluded her. She had to comply. She had to give up a little bit of herself to save her friends.

"Are you quite through being horrified?" Severus' low voice interrupted her thoughts.

Her eyes darted up to meet his. "Yes, sir. Tell me what you want me to do."

He sighed in irritation. "For now, I want you to begin a batch of the Wolfsbane potion. The Animus Discindium will soon be occupying all of our time, and new bottles are necessary to replace the expired ones for the werewolves. I will be reading by the fire if you experience disaster." Severus turned on his heel and exited the room.

Hermione's flurry of thoughts came crashing down on her and overwhelmed her as she pulled out the ingredients necessary to make the Wolfsbane potion. What of Draco and the others? Surely their fates would be decided soon, and she did not know if she would see them again, or, if she did, how many times. She had to come up with a plan quickly, one that had a high chance of success.

Pressing her fingers into her temples as she stared at the fire beneath her cauldron, she could think of only one possible chance to get them out. It was risky, not to mention she had no way to know if it would work, but there was no other way.

Looking out the door inconspicuously, she saw that Severus had his head buried in a book, seemingly oblivious to her. Hermione then looked around for something that she could knock over in the hopes that the clanging startling her would be excuse enough for any ripple of magic Severus may feel when she cast her spell. Steeling herself to the task and gathering all of her magical power to her, she held her right hand over a button on the side of her skirt and used her left hand to push her stirring rod off the workbench. As soon as it hit the floor, she silently cast "Portus" at the button and concentrated her energies on turning it into a Portkey to Hogwarts. From what she could tell, it worked.

"What is all that clanging about in there?" came Snape's angry voice from the bedroom.

"I'm sorry for disturbing you, sir. I just dropped something." Hermione held her breath, waiting for his response.

"See that it does not happen again. I have a lot of work to do." With that, he returned to his reading.

Hermione released the air from her lungs and quickly went back to preparing the potion. She prayed to whatever gods were listening that she would see Draco and his army one last time.

A few grueling brewing hours later, she felt Severus' eyes on her and looked up to see him watching her putting the final touches on the first phases of the Wolfsbane potion. Nervously, she looked back down at the table before her.

"By tomorrow evening, Wormtail will have gathered all of the ingredients, and we will have to set about brewing immediately; it may take well into the night. As such, I need my peace this evening and will be sending you to The Cell until tomorrow. Do you understand?"

Hermione felt the fear rise like bile in her throat. "Yes, sir. Only, how will I know what to do when you need me to help?"

"All of the ingredients will be prepared before we begin, so if you are attentive and knowledgeable, you will be able simply to follow my instructions. Now, clean yourself thoroughly and make ready to join Draco and the others. It is imperative that you not allow any mischief to befall you between now and tomorrow, as it will put us both in danger."

Hermione did not understand quite what he meant by that statement, but she didn't dare ask him. She assumed that he was in a bad temper if he was, after all these months, forcing her to spend the night in The Cell.

"I promise that I will not, sir." She quickly made for the bathroom, keeping her skirt with the Portkey button close at hand while she bathed.

When she exited the bathroom, she found him waiting with the door open and motioning for her to hurry up. She didn't hesitate to follow him.

As they approached the door to The Cell, Severus whispered darkly in her ear, "Remember what I have told you, and advise my godson to do the same."

Hermione looked back at him to see his hand placed firmly over his chest. When he released it to remove the wards from the prison, Hermione felt her stomach lurch, and fear coursed through her veins more forcefully than it had the night she had first been brought there.

After pushing her inside, Severus disappeared behind the wall. Immediately, all of her haggard companions opened their eyes and looked at her.

"You look like hell," came Draco's voice first into her mind through Silent Speech.

"Thanks," she replied with a smile. "Listen very carefully to me, Draco. I need you to grope me."

"And here I thought you'd never ask," Draco quipped, his silent voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Very funny. The top button of my skirt is a Portkey that will take you back to Hogwarts, and tucked into the waistband is a letter to the Headmistress telling her to take you all in when you arrive. Now, first, leer at me." She pretended to look away, tired.

Draco played the part well, and slithered over to her position on the floor. "You know, Mudblood," he said out loud, "I've missed you since I saw you last."

"Leave me alone, ferret!" she gasped, backing away from him.

"Oh, come on, let's just have a little fun. I'll be good, I promise." He smiled mischievously. "Is all of this really necessary?" he added, silently.

"You never know when they're watching, Malfoy," she snapped in his mind before growling aloud, "I am warning you to leave me alone."

"Just a little touch?" Without waiting for her feigned protestations, Draco grasped the letter in two fingers, and also tore away the button with the rest of his hand.

At the same time, Hermione slapped his arm. "Touch me again, and I will kill you." She glared at him and turned away.

"Suit yourself, then." Draco laughed, and their conversation continued once again within their minds. "How on earth did you manage to do this?"

"I worked on wandless magic when I was at Hogwarts," she answered sheepishly.

"You could do wandless magic all this time and yet you haven't?" Draco's voice was edged with anger.

"Look, I'm sorry, alright, but there are other considerations. For one, they would have killed me if they figured out that I could, and for another, I couldn't very well just run away, not when I have been in a position to figure out any part of their plan, which, by the way, I have. Hence the Portkey."

"What are they going to do?" Angelica asked in a hushed voice, so quiet Hermione almost didn't hear it in the torrent of her thoughts.

"Severus and I are going to make a truly horrible potion tomorrow called the Animus Discindium. It splits people from their souls and has no common antidote. Everything else we've made, no matter how dark, has always had an antidote, but not this one. Well, it has got one, but no one but Severus knows how to make it." Hermione took a shuddering breath. "I think Voldemort may want to use it against Harry. I think everything's finally coming together."

"What about you? Will you come with us?" Andrew piped up from his position in the corner.

Hermione's face fell into a deep frown. "I wish that I could, but I don't think that I will be able to. In fact, unless I can convince Severus to run away with me, I think that neither he nor I will see the outside of this place again."

"Surely you can't mean that," Angelica replied, shocked, and allowed her hand to brush against Draco's arm.

"She's right." Everyone looked at Draco with shock. "Don't look at me like that. If this potion is as terrible as Granger says, and if they do really doubt my godfather's allegiance, then once they get what they want from him, they will kill him. If they're going to kill him, they'll kill Lieutenant Granger with him."

"Isn't there anything we can do, General?" Jane couldn't tear her eyes away from the doomed Hermione.

Draco thought for a moment, stroking his chin. "Granger has to convince Severus that he wants to choose good over evil. But it won't be easy. Severus is sick and tired of that choice being made for him, tired of choosing a side just to save his own neck or appease someone else." Draco turned his intense eyes to Hermione. "You have to let him make the choice. And then you have to pray that choice is to escape with you and throw himself on the mercy of the Order."

"Easy as that, huh?" Hermione's mind continued to race as she considered all of the possibilities.

"It won't be easy, Granger, but you have to do it. There is something between you and my godfather that I don't understand, but I can sense it as clear as day when he comes in here. You relax. He gets anxious. Don't you feel it as well?" Draco's voice was urgent in the minds of his army.

"Yes, I feel it. I have felt it. But I don't know what it is!" Hermione was exasperated.

"You don't even need to know what it is. All that you need to do is learn how to use it to your advantage. Help him, Hermione. Help him so that he can save us." Draco's eyes were widened with a combination of fear and excitement.

The air in The Cell was heavy with uncertainty as the group fell asleep, huddled together against the cold.


	14. The Best Laid Plans

_A/N: I cannot say thank you enough to my beta, anogete, for all of her hard work with my stories. Thanks again also to my readers; you have made posting this a joy for me!_

_Obligatory: None of these things belong to me; they all belong to JKR. I just like to have a bit of fun with them, and no profit is desired. _

--

The last words that Hermione spoke to her comrades before Severus escorted her back to his rooms were, "Be careful. As soon as they come to harm you, get yourselves out." She shook with fear as she looked on them for what she assumed would be the last time.

It was late afternoon before she found herself seated in the lab, listening to Severus explain the Animus Discindium potion to her, pointing out all of the ingredients as though lecturing in class.

"The Animus Discindium and the Animus Redimio are very nearly the same potion. The main difference is that the former uses male virgin blood, while the latter uses female. The blood is added to the same base, which uses, amongst other things, fresh pomegranate juice and valerian root, traditionally Muggle substances that wizards do not often utilize. The rest of the ingredients are all the same, though they are added in the complete reverse order with reverse stirring. Both potions are potent and extremely unstable whilst brewing, so you must always wear gloves when working on either. Understood?" He quirked an eyebrow at Hermione as she listened attentively.

"Yes, sir." Despite Hermione's fear about creating such a terrible potion, she found herself excited at the possibility of making a little-known brew such as this. Was she losing her mind?

"I have already begun preparing the ingredients, and I warn you to listen to me very carefully, as one small error will require us to begin again. Be silent, and do not get in my way." He looked over the ingredients on the table before him.

Hermione noticed that he was more ghostly pale than usual, and that he was clearly in pain. Despite the thrill she knew he must be feeling at being able to make this potion, something was making him uneasy. Whether or not it was because he didn't particularly want to be making this with her, she couldn't say. All that she could do with the new information he was giving her about the Animus Redimio was to pay careful attention to what he was doing and hope that, if she couldn't convince him to escape with her, she could Portkey herself out and create the Redimio on her own.

Severus eyed her reverie with amusement. "Do you have any questions, Miss Granger? I know that you must, so you may as well ask them now."

"No questions, sir. I was just thinking about the Animus Redimio. I've never heard of two potions that are so closely related having such completely different uses."

"These are dark potions, Miss Granger. They can be mysterious in that way."

"But why the difference in the blood?" She tried not to let on the building excitement she was feeling at uncovering the mysteries of the potion that had occupied her thoughts for so long.

"Dark potions often draw on the raw power around us, hence the use of so many Muggle ingredients. Traditionally, male power is seen as destructive whilst female power is seen as creative. Thus, the powers of the different bloods have completely opposite effects on a potion. The Discindium will destroy life and the Redimio will save it." He took a deep breath. "Potions are not just a handful of ingredients haphazardly thrown together. Unfortunately, that has become the thinking amongst many modern masters. This misunderstanding has led to the ridiculous classification of potions as either dark or light. Dark potions are those that are not afraid to draw on life forces or raw natural energy. This has been seen as evil, rather than the other side of the same coin used by so-called 'good' masters to justify making potions that still kill, but do not use raw human power to do it."

Hermione felt her whole body tremble with excitement as Severus lectured to her. She craved his knowledge, and, even in these most strange of circumstances, getting that knowledge was precious to her.

She felt emboldened by his rare openness with her. "Is that why Draco and the others are in The Cell? Because you think the boys have virgin blood?"

Severus scoffed at her impertinence. "I do not know why they are there, but it has nothing to do with me or this potion."

"So Wormtail just went out and bought male virgin blood at the apothecary?" Hermione raised her eyebrows in amusement.

"I do not trust such things to whatever apothecary Wormtail visits. Virgin blood is not something that can be inspected for its quality like other ingredients." He eyed her with suspicion. "Are you too ashamed to ask what you really want to ask, Miss Granger?"

Hermione blushed deeply. "I don't know what you mean, sir."

"Rest assured that we have all the male virgin blood we require right here." He chuckled at her as her head snapped up in understanding. "Do not look so shocked, girl. I have more important things to do than waste my time chasing after physical gratification."

Hermione shifted in her seat uncomfortably. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…"

"Never mind that. It would have become clear enough to you as we began our work, as we are about to do. Watch carefully." With one swift motion, he pierced the palm of his left hand with a blade and let a drop fall into the large copper cauldron on the workbench. He held the bloodied hand out to her. "Heal that, if you please."

"I haven't got my wand, sir," she responded quietly.

As Severus began adding the pomegranate juice and finely chopped valerian root with his gloved right hand, he chuckled. "Do you think me an idiot? I am well aware by now that you do not require your wand. That little stunt with the stirring rod was an admirable cover, though."

Hermione's cheeks turned crimson as she reached out her wand hand to cast the appropriate healing spell on Severus' wound, carefully putting his other glove on for him. "What stunt, sir?"

"I know you have not got the Portkey on you right now as I cannot sense it, so I can only assume that you gave it to Draco and the other unfortunates." He continued stirring without looking at her.

She looked down, ashamed. "Are you going to punish me?" she asked meekly.

"That will depend entirely on you, Miss Granger. If any of the blame for your foolishness is laid at my feet, I will have no choice but to eliminate you." He lowered the heat on the cauldron to allow the potion's base to simmer.

"I am sorry, sir. You must know that I am not pleased at being a prisoner here, and my insufferable Gryffindor bravery necessitated an attempt to save the lives of the others."

Severus chuckled again. "At least you are intelligent enough to realize that it is insufferable."

"Then you are not angry, sir?" She tried to meet his eyes, but he was determined not to look at her.

"I am angry that you would be foolish enough to attempt such a thing right under my own nose. Now, I have no desire to continue discussing this matter. The Dark Lord wants you to assist me in this, so you will do as you are told from here on out, do you understand?" His relaxed face suddenly turned more stern, and, as usually happened when their conversations became too intimate, he returned to his imposing and frightening Professor mode.

"Yes, sir." Her response was one of submission, but his reaction had emboldened her and given her hope.

For several grueling hours, they continued brewing, Hermione quietly and obediently following Severus' instructions. Finally, the last ingredient, unicorn hair, was added, and potion was left to simmer to completion.

Just as Hermione and Severus collapsed in exhaustion in the chairs before the fire, a house-elf obediently appeared at the door with a fine dinner, including two glasses of red wine. He handed a glass to each of them before bowing deeply and exiting.

Severus picked up a note that had been sitting on the dinner tray and chuckled as he read it. "Lucius requests that we drink to the triumph of the Dark Lord on this most important of evenings." He raised his glass to Hermione in mock salute. "I will drink to that," he announced as he drained the glass, causing it to refill.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her seat as she eyed her wine. She wasn't really in the mood for celebrating, and she had yet to develop a taste for wine. The smell of grass and paper emanated from the glass, making her somewhat apprehensive about its taste, so she set it down and picked at some fruit and cheese.

Severus, however, was drinking ravenously from the magical glass. "It is a fine evening. It is an evening for celebration." His eyes looked almost glazed over. "It is time for me to celebrate and take all of the gifts that the Dark Lord has given me."

Hermione's head snapped up as he ranted. She suddenly became frightened by his change in mood. He was rapidly becoming uncharacteristically animated and excited. "Sir? Are you alright?"

"Ah, I have preserved your innocence long enough. It is long overdue for me to use you for the purpose for which you were given to me. Come here, now." His stood and made for her chair, grabbing for her arm.

"No, sir! Please, you aren't yourself! You've had too much to drink! Please, stop!" she yelled as she ran about the room, trying to elude him as he staggered towards her.

"Come here, girl, and pleasure me. I need you now. I have waited entirely too long to partake of your warmth. To hell with dignity and morality. You will be mine!" He was too quick for her and was able to grab her by her jumper.

Hermione held up her hands, desperate to find a way to stop him. "Impedimenta!" she shouted.

She looked, bewildered, as he froze. She had almost not expected the spell to work, but there he was, stilled in mid-attack.

"What the bloody hell was that?" she muttered, looking about the room. Suddenly, she looked over at the wine glass on the table. "Paper and grass. Good Merlin, he was slipped Amorentia!"

Her mind spinning with all the possible reasons for trying to drug Severus, she burst into the lab and retrieved a bezoar. She certainly didn't have time to come up with an antidote, so she hoped that the bezoar would do the trick.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione wrapped one arm around Severus' precariously positioned body. She waved her hand over him to unfreeze him, and, in his moment of confusion and unsteadiness, she forcefully shoved the bezoar into his mouth.

She stepped back as Severus fell onto the floor, coughing and coming back to his senses. He looked up at her with a mixture of fury and curiosity. "What did you do?" he shouted.

"I didn't do anything, sir! You were poisoned! You were going to attack me so I had to freeze you and give you a bezoar. If you don't believe me, smell the wine. I think you'll find that it smells like something you find desirable." She crossed her arms over her chest in challenge.

Looking at her incredulously, he moved to the fire and picked up the glass, giving it a cautious sniff. "Lucius," he spat out, trembling with anger.

"But why would he want to poison you? Certainly he isn't that interested in seeing that you lose your virginity." A thought dawned on her. "But he might be interested in seeing that I lose mine."

"What do you mean?" He sat down on the edge of the bed after vanishing all of the food and drink from the table.

"All of these potions we've been making, all of the time we've spent brewing all of these months, and not a one of them has ever been taken to be used. And then, suddenly, you're supposed to brew this incredibly complicated potion that only you know how to brew? Well, why would they trust that potion when obviously they aren't all that interested in any of the other ones?" Hermione paced furiously.

"Are you implying that the Dark Lord doesn't trust me?" He narrowed his eyes at her.

"Do you honestly believe that he does, sir? He just tried to get you to take my virginity, to rape me when you clearly didn't want to. They want my blood! They want my blood to make the Animus Redimio, and they've been watching you make the Discindium so that they would know how to do it! They must have been watching us all this time, having someone else do the brewing!" Hermione began to feel slightly sick yet triumphant that so many of her previously unfounded theories were proving to be correct.

"You are talking nonsense. Why not ask me to make the Animus Redimio? I would have done it gladly for the Dark Lord." He huffed at her.

"With what blood?" she asked defiantly.

"With your blood, the same way that I made the Discindium with my own." His angered expression faded away as though he were beginning to believe her.

"But I have other blood you could take," she mumbled, looking down. "It would make a much stronger potion, wouldn't it?"

"You seem unusually interested in the Animus Redimio. Why is that?" Severus stood and towered over her, commanding her to come clean.

Hermione took a deep breath and realized that now was her only chance. "Harry has destroyed all of the Horcruxes except for one. His scar is the final one. Since I figured it out before I was kidnapped, I have been trying to come up with a way to brew the Animus Redimio to give to him so that his soul would be bound to him while the piece of the Dark Lord's soul was destroyed so that Harry could live. Professor Caveo told me that you are one of the few people in the world who can make it, so I kept trying to come up with a way to find you to convince you to make it." She looked up at him hesitantly.

"So you got yourself kidnapped so you could try to convince me to help you save Potter?"

"No," she responded defiantly. "Do you really think I would do something so stupid? I admit that it was a touch convenient, but it just happened. But it seems that I am not the only one interested in making it. I know it all sounds crazy, but doesn't it seem to fit the facts?"

"Well, if you or anyone else thinks that watching me make the Discindium will help you in making either it or the Redimio, you are wrong. There are silent incantations involved that only I know, even if anyone managed to figure out what to do with the ingredients. So, you see, this has all been a waste of time." He stared at her, triumph evident in his eyes.

"Well, they didn't ask you to make it, and they tried to poison you into getting my virgin blood, so if you want to ignore all of that and still think that they trust you, then that's fine. Just leave me out of your delusions." She amazed even herself with her sudden boldness.

"You are overstepping your boundaries, Miss Granger." His voice was quiet, and his eyes traveled over to the bubbling cauldron in the lab.

"I know. I am through playing the obedient servant. It is obvious that, for some reason, I have been brought here for the sole purpose of getting my blood, so I refuse to be a sacrificial lamb. If you want to keep pretending that you are this high ranking important Death Eater, entrusted with such important tasks, that's not my problem anymore."

Severus glanced back at her with his eyes wide with contemplation. She expected him to lash out at her, to punish her for her brashness, but he didn't. Instead, he strode into the lab and pointed his wand at the cauldron that contained the Animus Discindium and vanished the potion. He then levitated a trunk into the center of the lab and cast a number of silent spells at it.

Reentering the main room, he turned back to Hermione and spoke to her with a level, quiet voice. "I want you to fill this trunk with anything we could possibly need to continue brewing. Gather all the contents from both cabinets, all of our tools, and as many books as you can manage, and then roll the trunk into this room. In exactly one hour, make sure that you are sitting on top of the trunk, and it will bring you straight to me. Do not use any magic unless someone comes in here. I want to be very clear on this point: do not use any magic at all. You must fill the trunk by hand. Performing any magic may alert them to our departure and destination. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir," Hermione responded with a tinge of hope in her voice.

"We are in great danger. See that you do not increase it." Those were his last words before he Disapparated, leaving Hermione in a whirlwind of confusion and excited hope.


	15. Snape Redux

_A/N: Many thanks to my beta, anogete, for always being willing to find time in her busy schedule to help me whip my stories into shape! Thanks also to my faithful readers, all of whom have given me nicer feedback than I ever expected I would get._

_Obligatory: None of these things belong to me; they all belong to JKR. I just like to have a bit of fun with them, and no profit is desired. _

--

_What are you doing?_

"I'm walking to my safe house. What does it look like I'm doing?"

_You could have Apparated right into it. Isn't that the point of having a safe house?_

"Alright, so I wanted a bloody walk! What's it to you? Oh, bloody hell; I am talking to myself."

_If I didn't know any better, I'd say you wanted to talk._

"Talking to one's self is one of the signs of losing one's mind. Do you think that is what I wanted out of this little stroll?"

_I think that's exactly what you wanted._

"Nonsense. I am not losing my mind."

_You just went on the run from one of the most dangerous dark wizards of all time, and so doing declared your true loyalties to him. You don't call that losing your mind?_

"What exactly do you mean, my true loyalties?"

_Come off it, Snape, you know exactly what I mean. You mean to help the girl save Harry Potter. You mean to see the Dark Lord destroyed._

"How can I have decided that my loyalties are against the Dark Lord? I have not decided anything yet!"

_Oh, but you have. In one split second decision, when you realized that they suspected you, you knew you couldn't maintain your indecision any longer. You gave the girl her freedom, and you're on your way to help her._

"How do you know I am not going to kill her?"

_Be serious, Snape. You could have killed her right there at the manor. After all, that's what the Dark Lord wanted. You were meant to make the potion, dispose of the girl, and stand with your so-called brothers while they take over the world. Now you're on the run. Again. What did you think would happen?_

"I do not know. I did not think."

_Oh, you thought. You've been thinking, haven't you?_

"Of course I have been thinking! That is all that I have done, all that I do! But nothing has changed! I must do what I have been sworn to do."

_You have sworn to do a lot of things, Snape. About which are you speaking?_

"I am a Death Eater."

_You were a Death Eater._

"No, I am. I will make the Animus Discidium and deliver it to the Dark Lord."

_No. You will make the Animus Redimio and deliver it to Harry Potter._

"If I do that, I will be killed."

_You're going to be killed anyway. You have always known that. But she could redeem you, Snape. She's already begun to._

"The Granger girl? That's nonsense."

_She's not a girl. Legally and emotionally, she is a woman, and she sees right through you, old boy. She has already saved you both, or don't you remember?_

"She was trying to keep a poisoned man from raping her. I do not see how you can draw any conclusions about her saving us from that."

_I wasn't referring to that, but while we're on the subject, why haven't you taken her? She wasn't just given to you as a lab assistant, you know. You know what you were meant to do with her. You were to break her spirit and her body. She was to be your whore._

"You know that I would never do that."

_A Death Eater would._

"I know what you are up to, Severus, and it is not going to work. What were you referring to, then, when you said she saved us both?"

_This whole time she was imprisoned with you, she never once showed that she feared you. She feared her situation and feared for her life, yes, but never you. Didn't you ever wonder why?_

"Because she has that insufferable Gryffindor courage."

_No. She knows that you're not truly evil, and that you killed Dumbledore because you had no choice. She knows that you aren't one of them._

"She could know no such thing. I do not even know, so how could she?"

_Ha! So you aren't as sure as you think that you are with the Dark Lord._

"I… no… fine! I do not know! When has it ever mattered to anyone what I think or whom I am with? I have done what has been asked of me by both my masters, and never once did it ever matter what I thought!"

_And what do you think?_

"I do not know! I have never been given the chance to choose, and no one has ever given me a good reason why one side is better than the other."

_She's giving you both a choice and a reason. She doesn't fear you. She sees right through you._

"No, she does not. She sees what she wants to see, like everyone else does."

_That's hogwash, and you know it. If she saw what she wanted to, she would see a bitter old man who can't forgive himself for a stupid mistake he made some twenty years ago._

"I made no mistake!"

_Oh? Why did you become a Death Eater, Snape? It's just you and me here, so it is time to be honest with ourselves._

"I wanted power."

_You wanted revenge._

"Revenge? For what, exactly?"

_For what? Come on, old boy, what didn't you want revenge for at that point? Let us start with your father._

"He was a cowardly, violent, drunk man with an unfortunate nose."

_And he destroyed your childhood. He killed your mother in a drunken rage, and you hoped the Death Eaters would help you get justice. He was a Muggle, so you hated Muggles, and they just so happened to want to kill all Muggles. You wanted to hurt him every bit as much as he hurt you all those years. How many hexes would it take to equal all the beatings?_

"I did my best. Leave my father out of this. I am not that cowering child anymore!"

_Then there was Lily Evans. Beautiful, Muggle-born Lily Evans, your friend and fellow potions lover. _

"Do… not… even…"

_And she ended up with your arch nemesis, James Potter. James Potter who tortured you and ridiculed you, like your father with a wand, and he ended up with the girl you wanted. Of course, it's not like you ever had the balls to tell her you wanted her._

"She would have rejected me, and I was only sixteen for Merlin's sake!"

_Yes, but like all things in your life, you let it simmer inside of you until it was bound to get out, and when it did get out, it was an explosion. That cauldron inside you, full of all of your angry memories about your poor, violent, loveless life, boiled over, and suddenly you found yourself escorted by your dear friend Lucius to the service of the Dark Lord. And what revenge did you end up getting, eh? You ended up a slave._

"My work is invaluable to the Dark Lord!"

_Then how is he getting better information on what goes on at Hogwarts without you, while you are stuck in a room making Pepper-Up Potion? That hardly sounds like being in the Inner Circle of a Dark Army to me._

"I am useful to him!"

_Then why did they slip you the Amortentia?_

"It was just Lucius' way of having some fun with me. He thought I lacked the courage to take the girl."

_Is it courage you lack? _

"Do not suggest that I am a coward."

_I know you aren't a coward. If you were, you wouldn't be here right now. You know what you have to do._

"I will not take her innocence."

_You already have, Snape. Haven't you ever wondered why you've never been interested in relations with women before? And I know it's not because you prefer men._

"Love is an unnecessary and dangerous distraction. And no woman would want one such as me: ugly, old, and tainted."

_Maybe you just never wanted to waste your time with someone who wasn't every bit your equal. Something has kept you from giving a woman that most important part of yourself, your last bit of innocence and your heart._

"My desire to preserve my neck has kept me from doing that. That, and I have no heart."

_You know that there is magic between you. And I'm not talking about Summoning Charms._

"I do not believe in such things."

_She's the perfect match for you, Snape, and she could save you. She could give you the reason to make that choice for yourself that has been made for you for so many years._

"I cannot save Potter."

_Yes, you can. Make the potion._

"I will not make the potion! I will not save him! I must stand with the choice I have made."

_You have made no choice. Will you allow your bitterness to still your hand yet again? Will your anger with James Potter keep you from saving Lily's son?_

"That has nothing to do with this!"

_It has everything to do with it. Do you remember the day you found out they were engaged? You drank an entire bottle of firewhisky and vowed never to let yourself love anyone. No, you never really loved Lily Evans, but she accepted you for who you were. You couldn't stand that! How dare anyone see through you, right? So you set out to hurt her, and you succeeded. She never looked at you again after you called her a Mudblood. She gave up on you then, and that confirmed for you that no one would ever see you as more than a cold-hearted, bitter man. Your mother loved you, but she couldn't protect you from your father. Lily liked you, but it wasn't unconditional. After that, you shut yourself off. You swore never to let anyone close to you again._

"And I still believe that was the right decision."

_Except now you're a miserable old man, and your only so-called friends simply keep you around so they can use you and then cast you aside when it suits them. Just like bloody Dumbledore, who left no one in the Order any clues that you were on their side._

"There were no clues to leave. How many times must I repeat that?"

_Dumbledore knew what side you were on. Hermione knows. Even the bloody Dark Lord knows! It seems that the only one who can't accept it is you!_

"You are making your argument under the assumption that I want to survive this war. If I did, what would I have left? As you say, I have no friends, no love, nothing but myself and my cauldrons. What would I do then? If I am not a double agent, then who am I?"

_You're Severus Fucking Snape, that's who you are._

"Who is Severus Snape?"

_He's a wizard who has been hiding in the shadows long enough under his cloak of bitterness. He's a brilliant wizard with a wit sharper than Gryffindor's sword, and even, when he wants to be, a man of grace and elegance. He is a man a special woman would love._

"She would never love me."

_Who?_

"Oh, bloody hell, not her, never her! She is just a child! I am old enough to be her father!"

_But she is beautiful, isn't she?_

"She has matured acceptably."

_She's got a brilliant mind, hasn't she?_

"She is more intelligent than your average Gryffindor dunderhead."

_So what's stopping you, then?_

"I cannot handle anymore rejection in my life! Dumbledore was a manipulative and opportunistic plotter, but he was still a friend, and he forced me to kill him. The Death Eaters would hex you as soon as look at you, but they were my friends, and they have labeled me a traitor. My mother would not save me from my father. Lily Evans scoffed at me from the arms of my worst enemy. How much more of this can I take?"

_You are still acting like a child. You're middle aged, and here we are, right back in this forest having this same battle of angst like we did twenty years ago. It's time for you to grow up, Snape._

"I cannot grow up! How can I, Severus, tell me, please; how am I supposed to grow up when no one lets me make up my own mind? How can I discover who I am when every bloody witch and wizard around me has been telling me who I am for me my entire life? Why is it better to live out this existence, without even a war and espionage to define it, as a worthless ball of flesh? Why would I not want to die? It is all I have looked forward to all of these years!"

_You have a lot left to give, Snape. Let go of all of this rage, and stop turning a blind eye to the truth in your soul._

"You gave me false hope once. I cannot trust you to do it again."

_Go to her, Snape. Make a choice for yourself for once. Think on your happiness, not your rage._

"She will laugh at me."

_She's never laughed at you._

"She fears me."

_She respects you and is in awe of your talents._

"She will reject me."

_She can't do anything if you don't get in that house and tell her that you're going to help her, and that you're going to do it for her. Not Dumbledore. Not the Dark Lord. Her. And you. Besides, she's not an idiot, as you say. I am sure she has figured out the fate you share, and the irony of this entire situation, by now._

"I told you that I do not believe in such things. You were imagining that."

_I imagined nothing. You're the one who was talking to her in her dreams._

_Snape? Are you still listening to me?_

"Yes. And I know that you are right, though that does not change who I am."

_It doesn't have to._

"_I know what I have to do_."


	16. Virgin Blood

_A/N: More thanks for my wonderful beta, anogete, for all of her hard work on this story. Thanks also to all of my readers and reviewers for sharing your thoughts with me; I hope that this chapter serves as a good reward for your patience!_

_Obligatory: None of these things belong to me; they all belong to JKR. I just like to have a bit of fun with them, and no profit is desired. _

--

Hermione had never moved so quickly in her life. As soon as Severus had Disapparated, she carefully packed all the ingredients they had amassed in the trunk along with the cauldrons and as many of the important Potions books as would fit. It wasn't as hard as it looked at first, since the trunk seemed to be charmed to hold more than it looked like it would.

The task took longer than it would have had she been able to use magic, but Severus had been explicit. Still, when she was done, she had ten minutes to think about what was going to happen next. She sat on the trunk as he had instructed her, and she faced the door with her hands raised, ready to perform a defensive hex should someone storm in.

It was really her first time alone since she had been in the manor. She was used to being either in the presence of Severus or in The Cell with Draco and the others. Her thoughts strayed briefly to Draco and her hope that he would be able to escape before any more harm came to him. No matter what she had thought in the past, he didn't deserve any more torture at the hands of his father and his minions.

What would happen when she left to join Severus, wherever he was? Would they brew the Animus Redimio? Would he kill her? Would she finally find out what was going on inside that head of his?

She felt the dull pain in her stomach again, and she rubbed at it absentmindedly with her hand. It was the first time she had ever felt it in his room. In the past, she had always associated it with The Cell, so now she thought it must simply be fear. So much had been going on lately that she hardly had time to be afraid of her situation, but now she was very much afraid. Spending so much time with Severus alone had given her a strange comfort that had allowed her to forget all that was going on around them, and all that still needed to be done.

If Harry was to be saved, she would need to brew the Animus Redimio potion and get it to him before he faced Voldemort. With any luck, her theory that it would keep Harry's soul bound to his body while Voldemort's inevitable Killing Curse destroyed the Horcrux was accurate, and the Dark Lord could be killed.

With any luck. Luck had not been on anyone's side lately.

With that thought in mind, her musings turned to Severus. He was the only one who knew how to brew the potion, and to get it to the highest potency they needed virgin blood. They needed the blood of a virgin spilled during her first time making love with a man.

She was going to have to talk Severus into bed. Strangely, she found that she was more afraid of that conversation than the act itself. After all, he was a virgin too.

What was it about Severus that had her so mystified? Why did she find herself so drawn to him? He had hardly been better than tolerable towards her in her time at the manor, yet when they were working together on potions, she felt an almost magnetic pull to him. His voice thrilled her, the sight of him carefully preparing ingredients hypnotized her, and feeling the struggle inside him made her yearn for him, made her want to show him that he had a choice.

And that was what she intended to do. She had learned a lot about him over the last months, and she was going to put it to use. She was going to get Severus to help her save Harry and defeat Voldemort, and she was going to help him in the process. She didn't know what the potential was for their association past this, but for whatever reason, she felt a pull towards him, and she knew somehow that without him, she would never feel complete. If he refused to help her and insisted on brewing the Animus Discindium again, she knew that she would help him. She would follow him wherever he went and in whatever decision he made.

'Merlin help me. I think I've fallen in love with him.' She sighed and ticked down the last few seconds before she would see him again.

--

When she and the trunk Apparated into a dingy sitting room, she found herself looking at Severus holding two wands. One, his, he held by the butt and pointed it at her. The other, hers, he held by the point with the butt facing her, slightly lower than his own.

"I have not yet decided which of these wands is more appropriate for you, Miss Granger," he muttered, inching closer to her.

"I know, sir." She sat calmly on the trunk and never dropped her gaze from his.

He faltered slightly but didn't back away. "What do you mean, you know?"

"May I stand, sir?" At his slight nod, she stood. His eyes were alight with fury, confusion, and a dozen other emotions she couldn't begin to process. "Let's sit down on the sofa, sir, and you can keep your wand on me." He hesitated. "Please."

"Very well. I warn you, however, not to overestimate your abilities with magic. I can still outsmart you." His gaze was dark and forbidding, but there was hesitation behind it.

"Sir, please, listen to me. I know how many people have sat before you and offered you what they called a choice, but it never was a choice, was it?" She sat down next to him on the sofa and pressed her chest against the point of his wand.

"And yet you already know which choice you would prefer that I make, making this little discussion more about you convincing me that you're right than simply allowing me to choose the other." He glowered at her, yet didn't increase the pressure on the wand on which she was nearly impaling herself.

"You've not yet even heard what I am going to say," she chided.

"No, but I assume you are going to beg me to help Potter." His lips curled into a sneer at the name.

"That isn't what I am going to do at all. What I want to say is that there are a number of things to be done now. For starters, you could kill me. I don't deny that it might make your life easier, but then you wouldn't have anyone around to help you."

"I do not need your help." At this, he pushed his wand forward, jabbing her breastbone.

"If you were to go with one of the other options, you would." Her posture didn't change, and no fear showed in her eyes at his threatening move.

"And what precisely would they be?"

She took a relieved sigh. "For one, you could brew the Animus Discindium potion and deliver it to the Dark Lord. We've already made it once, and we know that it needs two people to make it, and we would brew it again together. Once we return to him, he will undoubtedly kill us both. Me he would kill because I am a Mudblood, and you because, as we already know, he questions your loyalties."

Severus chuckled. "He is wise. I question them myself."

"Indeed. Well, another option would be that we would brew the Animus Redimio potion, for which you definitely need me as a source for virgin blood. We would brew it together and deliver it to Harry to keep him alive and destroy the Horcrux when the two face off again. You would have a devil of a time, of course, as no one would believe you to be honest or innocent, and you would likely be sent to Azkaban for the rest of your life." She stopped and looked at him, trying to gauge his response.

His face didn't change at all. "Or I could simply do nothing."

"Or you could do nothing, which would likely leave you with the consequences of the latter options, and you would probably still have to kill me." She allowed herself to relax, pulling back from his wand.

Abruptly, he lowered it and slumped back into the cushions. "I am not going to kill you, Miss Granger. But I wonder, what would you do if you were in my position?"

She thought for a moment. "I am in your position anyway."

He regarded her with bewilderment. "How is that, exactly?"

"I am going to do whatever you do, so the choice weighs just as heavily on me." Hermione crossed her arms over her chest.

Severus chuckled darkly. "And just whose side are you on, Miss Granger?"

"Yours." She stared into his eyes to convey the message that she was most serious, inviting him to read her thoughts if he wanted to see the truth behind her words.

"Then you are most definitely on the losing side." With that, he chucked her wand towards her.

"You have already made up your mind, sir. Why don't we just stop playing these games, and you can tell me what you have decided?" Her tone was even and without hesitation at her own boldness.

"Indulge me, first. Let us pretend for the moment that you were not offering me the choice between the Death Eaters and the Order. Let us pretend that you were really going to try to persuade me to help Potter. What would you say?"

Allowing herself just the slightest glimmer of hope, Hermione dropped her gaze into her lap and bit her lip nervously. "I suppose I would tell you that, since I am on your side, I would do everything in my power, which is a considerable amount as I am Harry's friend, to see that you were not taken to Azkaban if you decided to help the Order. I would say that, if the Dark Lord is defeated, there would be no more spying for you to do, no more reason for you to hide in the dungeons of Hogwarts teaching the dunderheads you hate for a man to whom you owe your freedom. You really could be free this time. If the Horcruxes are destroyed, he can't come back, and all the fighting and all the scheming and playing both sides would be over. You would never fear for your life, or wonder what the future holds. You could be free to do what you want, whenever you want, with whomever you want without looking over your shoulder. You could just be Severus Snape, whoever he is, and make your own choices, do research, market potions, publish books. You could consider all of your sins atoned for and just be. Wouldn't it be a relief, sir, to just let go of all the anger and mistrust? Wouldn't it be an amazing world if you could wake up and think of nothing and no one but yourself and not have to serve anyone? And you would know that you had at least one person out there on your side." She raised her eyes to his again.

"I suppose, if you were really trying to persuade me to help Potter, that would be a very appealing argument." He smirked at her before getting up and moving to a small table from which he took a bottle and poured himself a glass of firewhisky.

In a flash, Hermione strode towards him and moved to look back into his eyes. "But I meant what I said. I will do whatever you do. I could make the counterargument just as convincingly, if that's what you want to hear."

Severus took a long sip of the drink. "No, I do not think that I need to hear it. After all, I have been trying to persuade myself of it these many months, and, as you see, I have not experienced resounding success."

"I must tell you that I know a lot about you. Draco and I had a lot of time to talk together in The Cell, and I trust him, so you must know that I trust you as well. I trust you with my life. Whatever decision you make, it will be the right one." She knew that at this point things could go either way, so there was nothing to be lost by putting all of her cards on the table.

"I see, so you heard all about poor Severus and his awful childhood and teenaged lovesickness? I do not need your pity!" He turned away from her and threw his glass into the fire.

"Oh, I don't pity you, sir. You don't deserve to be pitied. Lately, you have got the short end of the wand, but it hasn't always been that way. You had a choice once, and, like it or not, that's what got you into this position, in debt to two unforgiving masters."

Spinning on his heel, he moved towards her and grabbed her hard by the wrist. "And why do you think that now I will make what you think is the right choice?"

Hermione trembled under Severus' touch. "Dumbledore told me."

"And I thought I was mad," he whispered inches from her face. "Dumbledore is dead."

She faltered as she looked up into the dark eyes that were boring holes into her own. "I know it sounds ridiculous, sir, but starting at the beginning of the school term, I began having dreams about the night he died…." Hermione trailed off as she saw the same look in Severus' eyes that she saw in her dreams. "He would tell me things. He told me that you didn't know what you were doing, that the Death Eaters suspected you, and that the final Horcrux was Harry's scar. Well, I mean, he didn't come out and say these things; I had to kind of work it out on my own."

"You mean to tell me that you have based this entire tale about the Horcrux in Potter's head on hallucinations about a dead man?" Severus grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her hard. "What in Merlin's name were you thinking?"

"Wait, sir, there's more. I didn't know what to think of the dreams, but it wasn't only Dumbledore who spoke to me in them. You did. You told me to look at a page in this Potions book I had bought, one I couldn't have known what was in the pages because I hadn't looked at it yet. You told me to look at a page, and on that page I read about the Animus Redimio potion." Hermione's whole body thrilled at Severus' unrelenting grasp.

"It must be a coincidence," Severus muttered, but Hermione thought she could hear indecision in his voice.

"There is something I fear more than Harry dying, though. Professor McGonagall gave me a Pensieve memory from Aberforth, and in it he and Dumbledore were talking about someone sort of giving into the darkness in them, and how Dumbledore didn't think he could save him this time. I thought he was talking about you at first, but, after spending some more time with Harry and talking to Aberforth, I realized that it wasn't you at all. It was Harry. The Horcrux is making Harry evil, and every day he becomes more and more one with the Dark Lord. If we can't destroy the Horcrux, he could become just as bad as, if not worse than, the Dark Lord. If that happens, none of us will be safe, least of all you. He'll come after you." Hermione's voice had become more and more pleading.

"He will come after me anyway," Severus replied as he dropped his hold on Hermione abruptly and turned away from her.

"I won't let that happen. Will you help me, Severus, please?" She tested the use of his given name for a reaction, but none came. "We haven't got a lot of time."

After several intolerably long moments, Severus pointed his wand to the trunk and levitated it towards a door across the room. "Come," was the only explanation he offered.

With another several flicks of his wand, the door opened, and Hermione found herself in an impressively large potions lab.

He smirked at her surprise. "I make it a point to have a decent place to work wherever I am. The room is charmed to be larger than it appears, and its wards will only accept me unless I instruct them otherwise. They will now permit you. However, I warn you to be careful in here. There are some rather unsavory ingredients in these cabinets."

"Luckily I brought both pairs of dragon hide gloves, then," Hermione quipped with a mischievous grin.

"Indeed. Now, as you astutely pointed out, we have not got much time, so I suggest we get started. Bring me the valerian root and pomegranate juice, as well as the copper cauldron." Severus began gathering some other ingredients while Hermione clicked the trunk open and retrieved the requested items.

She took a deep breath before asking her next question. "What sort of blood will we be using, sir?"

"Give me your hand and I will show you," he snapped as he held out a small blade.

Hermione's feelings were now mixed. She was delighted on the one hand that he was going to be making the base for the Animus Redimio, but with only a drop of blood from her hand, she wasn't sure if it would be strong enough for their purposes. How was she going to suggest that they jump in bed to get some more potent blood? "We're going to make the Redimio, then?"

"Very good, Miss Granger." He sighed ever so slightly as she held out her hand with a disconcerted look on her face. "Were you hoping we would make the Discindium? Did you want to watch me spill my blood again?"

"No," she gasped, as the tip of the blade pierced her skin and sent a drop of blood into the cauldron. She watched, mesmerized, as he added the juice and chopped up the valerian root into impossibly small, precise pieces and put them into the rest of the base to simmer with a few other magical ingredients from his stores in the lab.

"And that should be that for the moment," he stated, shooing her out of the lab and resetting the wards to the room. "What is it?" He gave her an inscrutable look as she sat on the sofa, and he took the armchair across from her.

"I'm… I'm just afraid that it won't be enough, that's all." Hermione fidgeted with the hem of her jumper.

"There's something more that you would like me to do to help Potter besides make the potion?" He cocked his eyebrow and glared at her.

"No, sir, I mean I don't know if the potion will be strong enough with my blood." She bit her lip and avoided his gaze.

"You are a virgin, are you not?" He looked somewhat amused at her discomfort and settled back into the armchair.

"That's sort of the point, isn't it? I may not know how to make the potion, but I know something about how to improve its strength. I'm afraid that just taking a drop from my finger won't be enough to protect Harry from the Killing Curse." She chewed on her lip, her hands trembling in her lap.

Severus jumped forward in his seat and glared at Hermione. "And just what would you suggest, Miss Granger? We need the blood of a female virgin, and you have supplied it."

"After the incident earlier, I am sure that you've realized that I know that the strongest blood to use for the potion's base is the blood of a virgin spilt willingly with, that is to say, blood from the first time…" Hermione hesitated before Severus' inspection.

"I know what blood is the strongest for the potion, Miss Granger. I am, after all, one of the only Potions masters alive who knows how to make it. However, since we do not have such blood, we will have to use what we do have." He continued to study her, and Hermione could not tell what exactly he was hoping to find.

"But we have got it, haven't we?" She looked up at him before averting her eyes again.

"Tell me exactly what you are trying to say. I am losing my patience." He relaxed back into his seat.

"I can provide the strongest blood that we would need. We both know what I am trying to say." Hermione willed herself to regain her courage. What kind of Gryffindor was she if she faltered now?

"It is not as if you can just stick your fingers between your legs and tear at your innocence, Miss Granger. You would have to surrender it willingly to a man." Severus tapped his fingers together and regarded her with seriousness. "So, as we are short a Potter and a Weasley, there is no one here to assist us in getting your virgin blood."

Hermione took a deep breath and boldly looked into his eyes. "You are here, sir."

"No."

Hermione couldn't keep herself from scoffing. "No? It's our only option, and you're saying no?"

"I have not squandered myself on a woman yet, and I will not do it now to save a boy I despise. Surely you don't think you are the only one with something to lose here? I have got to think on my dignity." Severus ran his fingers through his hair and looked into the cold fireplace.

"I told you before. This isn't just about helping Harry. It's about helping us to move on past this war, to get our lives back. I don't know about you, but my virginity is a small price to pay for that." She crossed her arms over her chest in a silent challenge.

"Do you realize what you are suggesting, Miss Granger? You would be giving me something that you can never have back."

"I wouldn't want it back. It would be worth it. There is something between us, Severus, and certainly you have felt it. Would it be so bad?" She reached out to touch Severus' hand. "I know I am not the only one with innocence to lose."

He abruptly pulled his hand away. "It does not mean all that to me."

Hermione's eyes beamed at him with subtle affection. "And yet you have kept it all this time, haven't you?"

"I never had an occasion to give it away. The other Death Eaters may find raping Muggles and keeping mistresses appealing, but I do not." He rubbed his eyes, and then slid his fingers down to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"Is it because you found it merely inconvenient, or because you didn't want to waste it?" Her tone was gentle, yet challenging.

"I do not know if that is any of your business," he snapped.

"Please, Severus, look at me." She waited for him to lift his gaze back to her slowly. "I am not asking you for any kind of promise. I am simply asking you to do this with me for all of us, and if you will not think of us, think of what it could do for you and your life." She reached for his hand, and he didn't pull away.

"I may not think much about my sexual innocence, for Merlin knows I am not generally innocent, but you should think on yours. What will it do for you to look back and remember that you sacrificed your most precious gift in the bed of a murderer?" Severus' whole demeanor changed, and a more honest man broke through his harsh façade.

"You aren't a murderer!" Hermione choked through her imminent tears.

"I am a murderer. I have murdered, cheated, and lied. I have not been man enough to make a decision and stand by it. I have cowered before the powerful, groveled before the mighty, and spewed hatred and anger at everyone I have ever met. Is this the man to whom you would give your virginity?" He flipped his hand over to grab hers. "I will not do it. I will not taint you."

A lone tear trailed down Hermione's cheek. "You may think that's the man you are, but I know it's a lie. I know who you are."

"This is who I am, Miss Granger." His strong hands reached up and grabbed her face, refusing to loosen their hold, and, before she could react, he was in her mind, showing her visions from his own.

Hermione gasped as her thoughts were full of his memories, of all he had done and seen. She saw him taking his Dark Mark, thrilling in the violence of raids on Muggle towns, killing Dumbledore, and bowing before Voldemort.

When he was through, his hands dropped to her sides, and his breathing was labored, as he had experienced the same thoughts she had seen. "Is this the man you want to bed you?"

"This is who you are, Severus." With the same gesture he had used, she grasped his face and stared into his eyes, filling his thoughts with images of himself teaching, brewing potions, worrying for Draco's safety, and the look of horror on his face when he realized that his drink had been laced with Amortentia. "This is the man that I see. The other is there, I know, but he will not win your soul. The man I see will."

"Then you are as much a fool as Dumbledore was. He too thought he could convince me that my nature was an illusion." He shook free of her grasp and settled into his chair.

"Oh, I know it isn't an illusion. You've just been made to believe that there isn't anything else to you. Even Dumbledore's done it by condoning your actions with the Death Eaters in the name of spying, and by forcing you to kill him. You may be a grown man, Severus, but that doesn't mean that you've got it all figured out, or that you're immune to manipulation!"

"You think that you know me, Miss Granger, but you do not. No one knows me." He glared at her.

"That's because you're afraid to let anyone close enough to even get the chance. That's why you've never been with a woman, because if you gave yourself to anyone, she might know you, and that terrifies you!" Hermione threw herself on the floor in front of Severus. "Please help me. Make love to me."

Severus leaned closer to her and searched her eyes, expecting to be blocked from her mind, but finding her thoughts wide open. She was telling the truth. "It… the blood… it has to be given willingly." He stumbled over his words.

"I am willing." She allowed him to see her feelings of comfort and safety when he was near.

He thought for a moment. "I cannot just tear it and be done with it. We would have to complete the act. Do you understand how the magic of the virgin blood works?"

Hermione smiled at him. "I have been thinking about this for months. I know what will happen, and I am ready for it. I want you. But I will not ask you to do it if you don't want me."

Rather than give her any sort of definitive answer to her veiled query, he stood and pulled her to her feet by her elbows. "If you are sure, we do not have the luxury of courting before I take you to my bed, Miss Granger."

"Can't you call me Hermione?" she asked while putting a hand on his arm to still his progress away from her.

"I suppose I can try it… Hermione," he whispered, as though testing the sound. "You are just a child. I should not do this."

"I am a woman, Severus, and you know it as well as I do. I am intelligent enough to know the consequences of my actions." She stood on tiptoe and planted a chaste kiss on his lips.

"You will have to do better than that if we are to be lovers," he murmured, before leaning back towards her and capturing her lips in his with a passionate kiss. "This is your last chance," he gasped as he pulled away to study her expression. "After this, you cannot take it back."

"I have no intention of stopping," she breathed, placing a reassuring hand on his chest. "Now, get a vial and meet me in the bedroom, which is…?"

"Through that door." Severus motioned to another door on the wall opposite the lab, and then moved towards the lab door to retrieve the vial.

Hermione pulled down the green comforter on the large bed and found that pristine, crisp white sheets lay beneath it. She kicked off her shoes and stood at the foot of the bed as Severus walked in and moved towards the nightstand to place the vial and his wand on it. Without daring to look at her, he slowly began unbuttoning his frock coat.

She strode the few steps between them and reached out for the next button. "Please, let me do it, Severus." Her voice was low and raspy.

He watched her with hooded eyes as she worked her way slowly down his coat. Once she had opened all the buttons, he raised his arms slightly to allow her to push it aside. His face twisted into a bemused expression as her trembling fingers began disengaging the buttons of his shirt. "You are nervous," he observed.

"Of course I am nervous," Hermione quipped. 'I don't even know what I am doing!' she thought to herself.

"I am sure that, between the two of us, we can figure it out," Severus whispered, placing comforting hands on her arms after she removed his shirt to reveal his naked torso.

"Figure what out?" Hermione regarded him with confusion.

"You said that you don't even know what you're doing, but I am sure that we will work it out."

Hermione became even more bewildered. "But I didn't say that out loud."

Severus looked as though he was cursing himself inwardly as he reached out to pull off her jumper. "Silent Speech, perhaps? I have gathered that you know it through your interactions with Draco."

The surface of her skin was alive with goosebumps as he unhooked her bra. "Perhaps."

Before she could say anything more, his mouth was on hers again, and this time she parted her lips to invite his tongue in. He responded by pulling her closer to him by her hips and releasing a small, muffled moan. Hermione reached out to unbutton his trousers and left them pooled at his feet. With one swift movement, he swept her into his arms and stepped out of the garment before placing her in the center of the bed.

Hermione was all nerves as Severus knelt on the bed to divest her of her skirt and tights. He found her skin soft beneath her clothes, and her body radiated warmth as she blushed in embarrassment from head to toe. "Will it hurt?" she asked as he lay next to her, his long fingers exploring the contours of her form.

"I believe it may be momentarily unpleasant, but not unbearable. You will just have to relax." As he spoke, his hand moved between her legs and stroked her opening to test how wet it was. It was nearly dripping with moisture, and, with a smirk, he amended, "I believe your body is responding adequately."

"You needn't make this quite so much like a potions experiment, Severus. You could at least pretend that you are enjoying yourself," Hermione chided, reaching across her body to caress his cheek.

"I have a beautiful, brilliant young witch in my bed. What isn't there to enjoy?" He placed a lingering kiss on her neck and moved his body closer to hers so that she could feel the strength of his erection on her leg.

"I am not beautiful," she gasped as he licked the sensitive spot below her ear.

"I cannot hope to convince you that you are beautiful, and you cannot hope to convince me that I am not hideous, so we will have to agree to disagree." He shuddered as her hand found its way to the curve on his side.

"You are not hideous, Severus. I think that you are quite handsome." She rolled onto her side to face him, and they wrapped their arms around one another to kiss with unrestrained abandon. It was as though both thought they were in a dream, and were determined to make the most of the experience before they woke up and found themselves back at the manor.

"As I said," he panted through labored breaths as he pulled back to nearly an inch from her face, "we will have to agree to disagree." Before she could argue the point any further, he rolled her onto her back and moved on top of her, positioning his body between her opened thighs. "Are you absolutely sure about this, Hermione?"

"Yes, but say my name again so that I know for certain." She smiled at him adoringly, and he was visibly uncomfortable under her gaze.

"You are a remarkable witch, Hermione. I do not deserve this from you." He broke away from her gaze and looked down at her waiting body with shame.

"No, you deserve much more. Kiss me, Severus. Make love to me." He leaned down to kiss her lips softly, and shifted his hips so that his hard length was pressing at her entrance.

"You can still tell me to stop." His eyes were impossibly dark as they looked into her glistening brown depths.

"I have had every opportunity, and yet I have not. Be inside of me, Severus. I would not give this to anyone else but you."

A growl emitted from his throat as he kissed her again, his tongue darting into her mouth to lick hers. "I must be a bit forceful to ensure that the hymen will tear enough to produce blood. Please, forgive me."

Sensing his hesitation and unable to bear the wait any longer, Hermione lifted her hips up hard and felt the tissue tear, causing a slight twinge of pain. After a moment, the pain subsided, and they both moved together, trying to find a rhythm in this new and unfamiliar act.

Severus' eyes closed in concentration, and he kissed her again, freely. Reading about and watching sex was one thing, but actually to be engaged in it was entirely another. Reserve slipped away, and soon he was pounding into her, caressing her breast with one hand and steadying himself on the mattress with the other. Both of her palms were pressing into his hips, urging him to keep his body as close to her as possible. Sometimes their movements were jerky and awkward as they tried to time their thrusts, and occasionally he would nearly slip out of her if one lost the other's imprecise rhythm.

As he felt himself ready to lose his control and climax, he pulled his face back from hers and looked into her eyes. He expected to find fear and uncertainty in them, but was amazed when he saw pleasure and affection gazing up at him, several tears dripping down her flushed cheeks as she ground her hips against him insistently.

"Come with me, Hermione," he whispered as an electric energy surrounded them so powerful he was sure he was imagining it. 'Shit,' he thought to himself. 'The Animus Redimio magic is getting what it wants. How could I forget?'

"Severus," she hissed through her clenched teeth as the energy between them built until both of their bodies were thrilling with unknown magic.

For several blinding and unexpected moments, both of their bodies tensed, her walls clamping down around him hard and pulling out his ejaculation. They nearly screamed together at the sensations and could hardly breathe at the feel of their shared orgasm.

Immediately after spilling into her, with his last remaining strength Severus reached out his hand, and his wand and the vial flew into it. Trembling, he pulled out of her and used his wand to coax as much of her blood as possible from the bed and their bodies into the vial like a Pensieve memory. Hermione looked on with wonder as the small vial filled with her blood, and when he had replaced the stopper, he collapsed on his back and held the vial up to the soft candlelight.

The magic they had experienced had disappeared as if it had never happened, and Hermione looked at the vial with awe.

"It's strange that a drop of something so seemingly insignificant can mean the difference between life and death," she whispered, on the verge of falling asleep, placing her hand on the patch of hair on Severus' chest.

"That, my dear, is the impressive subtlety of potion making."

"Thank you for this, Severus. No matter what happens, I will never regret it." She insinuated her body next to his and snuggled against him.

"Would that I could believe it," he muttered, just barely audibly.

"What did you forget about the magic of the Animus Redimio?" Her voice was sleepy and her eyes were closed, and her whole body relaxed next to his.


	17. Homecoming

_A/N: Thank you so much to my fabulous beta, anogete, for all of her help and support. I want to send some extra special hugs and thanks to my readers and reviewers; I am so flattered by the positive response I have received!_

_Obligatory: None of these things belong to me; they all belong to JKR. I just like to have a bit of fun with them, and no profit is desired. _

--

"What did you forget about the magic of the Animus Redimio?" Hermione's words cut through the silence of Severus' thoughts like a knife.

"What?" he asked as he tensed at her words, realizing that she had heard his thoughts.

When she only responded with a soft murmur, he relaxed. "Are you awake, Hermione?"

Nothing.

He sighed, shifted away from her so as not to disturb her, grabbed his trousers and white shirt from the floor, and made to the lab to prepare the ingredients to make a new batch of the Animus Redimio potion. This would be the strongest possible brew for the potion: Hermione had willingly given her blood to another innocent, and they had reached completion together.

And, most importantly, she had done it with the man with whom she shared a bond, the magical bond of the Animus Redimio enchantment.

He had tried to deny it for quite some time, but considering the outburst of magic during the culmination of their lovemaking, he knew that it must be true. Worse, however, was that somehow the Dark Lord knew about it as well and was trying to use it to his advantage. If the Dark Lord knew about the bond, if he returned to him, he would certainly be killed immediately for having already spilled the most powerful blood known to wizard kind.

He had no choice now. Regardless of his indecision, he could not let the blood go to waste. He would have to give Hermione the Animus Redimio and send her back where she belonged: Hogwarts.

But what would he do? Where would he go? Would he go with her? Would he risk it? He didn't want to be taken prisoner, but he also knew that there were consequences to sending her off alone.

"Consequences be damned," he mumbled to himself as he chopped up the valerian root. "I don't really believe in any of this Animus Redimio rubbish, do I?"

He continued preparing the ingredients for another hour. He knew that Hermione needed her rest, but there would be time enough for rest later. He needed her help to make the potion, and time was not on their side if the Dark Lord really was readying the Death Eaters for their ultimate offensive.

He almost couldn't believe that, in the span of a day, he had gone from a faithful servant to the Dark Lord to a man on the run from him, aiding and abetting saving Harry Potter from certain death. What was going on with him? Was his resolve really so weak that the coaxing and caressing of a teenager was able to convince him that he should return his loyalties to the Order? Or had he just been fooling himself all of this time that he was really on the side of the Dark Lord?

Standing in the bedroom, looking at Hermione's naked body twisted in his sheets, he tried to shake himself out of what he thought must be a dream. She was so peaceful, her face glowing with pleasure. Had he done that to her? Had he really put that look of unimaginable bliss on her features? Him, Severus Snape, crooked-nose bat of the dungeons? It was almost too ridiculous to believe. And yet, the honesty emanating from her could hardly be ignored. The purpose for her entrance into his life at this point could hardly be ignored.

Not daring to dwell on those thoughts any longer, he glided over to the bed and placed a firm hand on Hermione's arm, giving her a gentle shake.

She stirred and looked up at him with a small smile. "Have I slept long?" she asked, suddenly becoming alarmed.

"No, but there isn't a minute to waste. Get dressed quickly so that we can make the potion and send you off." Not wishing to see more of her bared skin, he abruptly exited the room and made for the lab.

Moments later, she appeared before him, not basking in the afterglow of lovemaking or saddened by his command, but coolly confident. He had expected a hundred different reactions to this awkward encounter, but he got none of them. She knew what needed to be done, and she was going to do it.

Without speaking another word to each other, they faced the several long hours of brewing that the Animus Redimio required. Severus was amazed that he no longer needed to tell her what to do next. She was always a step ahead of him, handing him vials and tools as though she were one with his mind.

He chuckled to himself. As though she were one with his mind? She practically was his mind now. There was no changing what they had done, and the magic they had awakened.

After the final step of the brewing, they stared at each other from across the table as the potion simmered its way to completion.

"What happens now?" Hermione asked, tucking a stray curl behind her ear.

"Once we have bottled this, you must return to Hogwarts. I cannot say for sure when the Dark Lord will strike, but I know that he will be after Potter. You must find him and come up with a strategy." He motioned for her to return to the sitting room where they sat on opposite ends of the sofa.

Hermione relaxed into the cushions and sighed. "I hope that he's still there. I hope that Ron and Remus were able to keep him under control and safe in the castle. I have been gone for so long, and so much could have happened." She paused before looking into his eyes. "What will you do?"

"That does not matter. You cannot worry about me now. You have a very important part to play in this mess, and it has only just begun." Severus pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to calm the torrent of thoughts in his mind.

"But you're in great danger. Won't you come with me where you'll be safe?" Her eyes pleaded with him.

"I will not be safe at Hogwarts. I know you believe that you can convince them that I am innocent, but to them, you are only a girl. They didn't believe you when you said that Black was innocent, and they will certainly not believe you if you say that I am. I have committed too many sins to think that it will be that easy."

"But we need you. Whatever you may think, you are still a very powerful wizard who can help us when the final confrontation comes." Hermione looked into her lap and fidgeted uncomfortably.

"I need some time right now. Rest assured that I will be quite safe here." He stood and paced in front of the sofa.

Hermione watched him for a few moments before speaking again. "You're still not sure if you've made the right decision, are you?"

Her sad words stilled his progress about the room, and he turned and looked at her for several pregnant moments. "You have to go. We need to bottle the potion."

He could hear her take a deep breath before he felt her presence in the lab with him, waiting obediently to take vials from him. He didn't dare turn around to look at her as he put on the gloves and measured out ten vials of the potion, placed them in a secure box, and then put the box in a black tote bag.

Finally, he turned to her and handed her the bag. "This will keep Potter's soul bound to him if he is cursed by the Dark Lord. We can only hope that this mess is resolved soon so that we may all be done with the indecision and uncertainty."

He allowed Hermione to consider his words for a moment before placing a delicate hand on her shoulder and leading her out of the room.

"Apparate right outside of the school gates and run to the castle as quickly as you can. There is no way to know who may attempt to pick up your path." His words came out as more of a command than he had intended.

Standing at the front door of the shabby safe house, Hermione stood and looked at him with tears in her shimmering brown eyes. "Are you sure that you'll be safe here?"

"Do not worry about me, Hermione, please. Go back to where you belong." He looked away from her insistent gaze.

"I'm not sure where I belong now, Severus. I do know one thing: when this is all over, wherever you are, whatever you are doing, I will find you. You can hide from everyone else, but you cannot hide from me."

As she Disapparated away, the relief he had found in his chest for a few short hours faded away, and the dull ache with which he had been plagued for months returned.

--

Despite her internal conflict about leaving Severus alone, Hermione found that she had never been so happy to see the gates of Hogwarts. She was finally free and back to the place she had called home for nearly seven years, and she was relieved to see that it still stood.

She did as Severus instructed at first, running from the Apparation point to the gates, but as soon as she put her hand on the entrance, she stilled. What had changed since she had been kidnapped? Had her disappearance caused Harry to do something brash? Had his progress towards evil become irreversible? Would they have realized that she had been kidnapped, or would they find the idea that anyone could be taken from Hogwarts so preposterous that they would assume she had just abandoned them?

Finally, she unlatched the gate and stepped onto the school grounds. She took long strides towards the front door, but a shift in the winds made her stop her journey. She could almost feel a magical force thrumming through her veins as the winds whipped around her.

"What sort of magic is this?" she muttered to the air.

"Yours, my dear. I knew you could do it," came a familiar voice from next to her.

Had her nerves not been keeping her mind running at a mile a minute since she had left Severus, she might have passed out from shock right on the grass.

"P-P-Professor Dumbledore?"

"In the flesh, Miss Granger." His eyes twinkled at her, and she saw that he looked at healthy as she had ever seen him, his hand restored and the care-worn lines erased from his brow.

"What did I do?" she asked, still bewildered.

"I would think that was quite obvious. You brought me back to life." He chuckled at her shocked expression. "Come. I think there are some things we need to discuss in private before we shock the castle with our returns."

Hermione slowly followed Dumbledore towards the greenhouses. They stepped inside greenhouse four, and Dumbledore locked and warded the door. "I don't want us to be disturbed."

"How is this possible?" Hermione burst out, her wits returning to her.

"Ahh, how indeed," he replied, conjuring two armchairs and motioning for Hermione to sit down. "That is a very long story. First you should know that you have made it possible, and I thank you for that."

"How on earth did I do it? I haven't done anything!"

Dumbledore chuckled with great glee. "Oh, but you have. I assume that by now, you are quite familiar with the Animus Redimio potion?"

Hermione motioned towards the tote bag in her lap. "Indeed. Quite familiar."

"What you may not be as familiar with is the Animus Redimio enchantment, am I right?"

She returned to her bewildered expression. "Are they related? Does the enchantment do the same thing as the potion? Was all of this necessary?" she asked, holding up the bag.

"They are related, but they refer to different things. The potion binds a person's soul to his body. The enchantment binds two souls together. It is an incredibly rare occurrence, and yet two examples of it are sitting right here in this greenhouse." He looked around with awe at the magical plants surrounding them.

Hermione followed his gaze. "Where?"

"Right here, of course! You and me."

She furrowed her brow. "We are bound together?"

He chuckled again. "No, no, nothing like that. I am bound to the castle, and you are bound to Severus."

It was as though the entire weight of the world suddenly fell onto Hermione's shoulders. "Did you just say that I am bound to Severus?"

"Perhaps I should back up a bit. You see, magic is a living, breathing organism. It is not simply some energy field that gives witches and wizards their powers; it is a conscious force, a force of nature that can give and take away, bless and curse, create and destroy. It does what it feels is necessary to keep itself going."

Hermione considered his words. "Is that why children born of Muggles sometimes have the ability to do magic?"

"Precisely." He appeared pleased with himself. "Magic finds children with the strength to withstand the forces of its powers and bestows a gift upon them. The opposite holds true for Squibs: magic does not wish to see itself wielded through a particular person, so it prevents that person from absorbing the power from his parents.

"However, magic gives other gifts. It can give certain people certain abilities or give them soul mates. Do you follow?"

"I think so," Hermione replied. "So I am Severus' soul mate?"

"After a fashion, yes. Severus was born into a difficult life, but with great powers. Magic gave him great powers that he may use them to forward the cause of magic in our world. However, he has neglected the most important magic, one that could bring him to his full magical potential. I do not think you need me to tell you what that is?" He raised an inquisitive eyebrow at Hermione.

"Love," she answered evenly.

"Precisely, my dear. Without the use of his heart, he will never have the mastery over his powers that he was intended to have. To that end, someone was brought into our world to see that his heart was kept alive, if you will, for him. Someone who could make him use his heart that he might be able to do the good that he was meant to do."

Hermione's eyes grew wide and somewhat angry. "So I was given magic for the sole purpose of awakening Severus' heart? I'm just some tool of magic?"

"We are all just tools of magic, Hermione." He used his serene gaze to bring Hermione back to a state of calm. "Does that upset you?"

"I'm not sure, really. Don't I have any say in this?"

"The magic would not be activated if the two of you didn't want what the other could provide. In a sense, you did have a say, because you came to realize that Severus embodied the only kind of man who could ever make you happy. I hope that I am not wrong in assuming that you have developed feelings for him?" He looked at her over his spectacles with intense curiosity.

"I… I have, but hearing you say that makes me wonder if I'm really feeling them, or if magic is making me." She frowned and looked into her lap.

"Do not look at it that way, Hermione. You may have been matched by magic, but it is what your heart desires that makes the enchantment come to life. Now that you have awakened it, however, it cannot be denied. You have sealed the bond between you, if I am correct in assuming that the blood of your innocence is an ingredient in those vials?"

Hermione blushed with discomfort and offered no other reply.

"Do not be ashamed, Hermione. Others may not understand it, but I do. You pursued your bond not only to save Severus, but also to save your friend. It is nothing to feel sorry about." He reached out and patted her hand.

"But will it save Severus, sir?" She looked back at him with tears in her eyes.

"Only he could answer that for certain, but I believe his heart will not allow him to walk away from you easily. He will return to you because he must. He may not know it yet, but he loves you."

"He will not like that," Hermione stated evenly.

"He will not have a choice."

Hermione chuckled. "I know. That's the point. Severus is an angry man, as I am sure you know, and he needs desperately to be able to make his own decisions about where he stands now. If he knows that even magic is conspiring to rule his life, he will run as far away from me as he can."

"I know all of this, my dear, and that will be his choice to make. From here, even I cannot say for certain what he will do. If he knows what is good for him, however, he will see that allowing the bond into his heart will be the only thing that gives him the strength to choose what he wants to do with his life."

Hermione sighed. "I would of course like to discuss this with you further later, but for now, perhaps we could discuss your bond and what it has to do with me?"

"Of course, my dear. You see, I am bound to the soul of Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts has a soul?" Hermione wrinkled her nose in disbelief.

"Naturally. The four founders made this place as much of a living thing as they were. Their very essences reside inside the walls of the castle, and I am bound to them much as you are to Severus. That bond rests on one principle, and one principle alone: I can never leave here so long as there are still those here loyal to me who need me." He smoothed out the wrinkles in his lavender robes.

Hermione began putting all of the pieces together. "That's why you let Severus kill you. You knew that we still needed you, so there was no way that you could die."

"Precisely. However, things didn't exactly go as I had planned. Apparently, loyalty was a bit too much to ask for." His eyes suddenly fell.

Hermione's eyes lit up. "Loyalty to you would mean believing that you were right in trusting Severus. As soon as everyone started believing that Severus was evil, they were no longer loyal to you."

"Yes." His expression became more distressed. "When I ordered Severus to kill me, I assured him that someone, Minerva at least, would understand that it was the right thing to do to save him and me. However, her inability to understand the subtleties of the situation has ensured that, these many months, I have been trapped in the walls of the castle as nothing more than a wraith."

"So your spirit really was talking to me in my dreams? I wasn't just making all of it up?"

"No, my dear, you weren't making it up. I knew that if anyone was able to come to the realization that Severus really had been on our side, it had to be the one who was bound to him. My plan began to fall apart, however, when you were kidnapped." His eyes dimmed with a touch of pity. "It was not my intention for you to be put in danger."

"How did the Death Eaters get me from right inside Hogwarts?" Hermione waited impatiently for the answer to the question that had been plaguing her for months.

"The Death Eaters have been in Hogwarts, Hermione, or rather one has been. Your dear Professor Caveo is not at all who he appears to be." He shook his head. "Minerva should know better than to call on the assistance of a stranger in these difficult times."

"Caveo?" Hermione burst out with disbelief. "Professor Caveo is a Death Eater?"

"Well, strictly speaking, Eli Caveo is not a Death Eater. The real Eli Caveo is a rather unremarkable home schooled wizard from Leeds. The man you know to be Eli Caveo is really Andreas Prince."

Hermione's expression turned to one of horror. "Prince? As in Eileen Prince?"

"The same. He is Severus' second cousin, so I can only assume that it is the blood he shares with Severus that allowed him to detect your bond. He was a clever enough Potions master to realize that the blood he could obtain from your first encounter with Severus would be enough to make a potion to make Tom Riddle immortal even without the Horcruxes. I do not even think he came to Hogwarts with the intention of kidnapping you. Rather, I believe he was placed here as a spy and a leader for the children of Death Eaters still living in the castle. When he realized what he could do with his new assistant, I believe that he saw a way to further his position in the Death Eater circle."

"All those dark potions he and I made together were for Voldemort, weren't they? Severus wasn't the one making potions for the Death Eaters at all. They were using him all this time to get the recipe for the Animus Redimio, and discovering that he and I shared the bond was just a happy accident." Hermione frowned deeply.

"That would seem to be the most likely explanation. Fortunately or unfortunately, however, Andreas has been gone since last week. He must have been recalled to keep an eye on what Severus would be doing to prepare to make the Animus Discindium." Albus made to stand up. "Whatever is going to happen is going to happen soon. We still have much to discuss later, my dear, but for now, we need to go give Minerva a stroke."

Hermione followed Dumbledore out of the greenhouse and back towards the castle.

The familiar ache in her stomach returned.


	18. Hermione Victorious

_A/N: Many thanks to my lovely beta, anogete, for her patience and help with my fic. Thank you once again to all of my readers and reviewers; I love hearing your comments!_

_Obligatory: None of these things belong to me; they all belong to JKR. I just like to have a bit of fun with them, and no profit is desired._

--

"Now, let me think: what was Minerva's password this week? Ah, yes. Brussels sprouts." He turned to Hermione with a grin. "She's a very serious woman, isn't she?"

Hermione chuckled and followed Dumbledore up the spiral staircase into the head office. Once they reached the door, Dumbledore turned back to Hermione. "I expect this will be something of a shock, wouldn't you agree?" He knocked lightly on the door.

"Yes?" came McGonagall's stern voice from inside.

With a wave of Dumbledore's hand, the door clicked open. He motioned for Hermione to enter first, placing his finger over his lips and winking.

"Miss Granger!" McGonagall exclaimed. "You're alive!"

"Good evening, Headmistress."

McGonagall jumped up from her desk and nearly tackled Hermione with a tight hug. "Sweet Merlin! We all thought you were dead! What happened? Where did you go? Are you alright?"

"I am fine, Headmistress. I was kidnapped by the Death Eaters. I must say, the food there was good, but the accommodations were less than impressive." Hermione's voice dripped with wry sarcasm.

"You were kidnapped from inside the castle by Death Eaters? How? Why?" McGonagall was clearly exasperated.

"Ah, Minerva, do not attack the poor girl with questions. She has had a very long few months." Dumbledore swept regally into the room.

As soon as McGonagall saw Albus Dumbledore in the flesh before her, she took a hesitant step back and raised her wand. "What kind of cruel trick is this?"

Dumbledore held his hand over his chest as though she had wounded him. "Do you not recognize your dear old friend, Minerva? I am hurt." He winked at Hermione, and she giggled.

"I must be dreaming. You're dead!" she yelled, raising her wand another inch.

"Clearly I am not, as I am standing before you. Now, I know that we have a lot to discuss, but I wanted you to see that Miss Granger was safe and sound and back inside the castle before I told you all that has been going on."

"Please, Headmistress, put your wand away. He really is alive. Trust me, please." Hermione moved towards McGonagall and gently pushed her wand arm down.

"Thank you, Miss Granger. Now, I would like for you to give me the bag." Hermione hesitated before holding the tote out to him. "Do not worry. I know how important this is to you, but we need to keep it in a safe place."

"I trust you, Professor," she assured him, handing over the bag.

"That I am here is certainly proof of that, my dear. Now, I need a few moments alone with Minerva to catch her up. Would you be so kind as to go to the Gryffindor common room and retrieve Harry and Mr. Weasley? I believe we all have some things that we need to discuss." He smiled and nodded at Hermione. "Oh, and Miss Granger? You need not tell Harry or Ron anything about what has happened that may make you feel uncomfortable, though I do need to discuss it with Minerva. It will be our little secret between the three, or rather four, of us. Yes?"

Hermione cast a quick glance over at the bewildered Headmistress. "Yes, thank you, sir. And I understand that you will have to discuss it with Professor McGonagall. Delicately, if that's at all possible?"

"Of course." Dumbledore patted Hermione on the shoulder.

Hermione exited the office and ran as quickly as she could to the Gryffindor common room. When she got there, she realized that she didn't have the password.

She paced in front of the impatient Fat Lady for a few moments, trying to come up with a plan. Suddenly, an idea came to her. She reached inside the Gryffindor tower with all the power she could muster in Silent Speech. "Harry? Harry! Come to the entrance portrait! I can't get in! Harry!"

Hardly thirty seconds passed before Harry threw open the portrait and stared at her with utter amazement.

"Hermione? Is it really you?" His voice was quiet, and he looked much as Hermione had remembered him. He was losing weight, his skin had lost its luster, and his eyes were empty. She could still sense, however, that the good in him was winning the fight for his soul thus far.

"I'm back, Harry. I'm here." Tears came to her eyes as she threw her arms around him and felt his arms come around her. "I'm alright."

"Where were you? We were all so worried. You just disappeared, and we knew you wouldn't just leave us, but we couldn't work out where you had gone!" He pulled back and studied her carefully.

"It's a very long story, Harry, one that I will be happy to tell you later. For now, could you go and get Ron? We're needed in the Headmistress' office. I don't really want anyone else to see me just yet. If my room in the dungeons is still available, when we're done we'll go down there, and I will tell you both everything that's happened. Okay?"

Harry looked at her as though he still couldn't believe that she was standing before him, alive. After a moment, he nodded. "I'll go and get him."

As Hermione stood in the shadows of the hall waiting for Harry to return, she marveled at how, though she still felt safe at Hogwarts, it didn't really feel right somehow. It took her a moment to realize it, but it occurred to her that whatever bond held her to Severus was keeping her from seeing any place that wasn't by his side as home. Her thoughts strayed once again to him, and she wondered when, or even if, she would see him again. She hoped desperately for his safety.

Before she had any more time to dwell on Severus, Ron's voice intruded on her reverie. "Hermione Jane Granger! Where the bloody hell have you been?"

"Ron!" She hugged him, and he squeezed her tightly in return. "You would hardly believe me if I told you."

"Try me," he replied with a combination of joviality and concern.

"I'll give you the short version on the way to see the Headmistress. I'll give you the long version later. Okay?" Both young men nodded their heads in agreement. "Good. Let's go."

They began running towards McGonagall's office as Hermione tried to fit into a few short moments what she was still trying to comprehend after a few long months. "Essentially, Professor Caveo kidnapped me, only he isn't really Eli Caveo. He's Andreas Prince, and he's a Death Eater. While I was there, I was given to Professor Snape as an assistant, and together we made a very important potion that will help us defeat Voldemort."

"Snape?" Harry spat out with irritation. "Why would Snape do something to help us?"

"What did Snape do to you, Hermione? Did he hurt you?" Ron scrunched his nose in disgust at the thought of his dreaded former Potions professor.

"He would do something to help us because he is on our side. You'll understand all of that in a minute. And no, he didn't hurt me. He isn't the kind of man you think he is."

Ron laughed. "That's what you said about Caveo, and he turned out to be a kidnapping bloody Death Eater!"

"I think that I have earned the right to speak with conviction on the particularities of Severus' loyalty, thank you very much, Ronald." She turned and narrowed her eyes at him in challenge.

"Severus, is it? What did he do to you?"

"Yes, Severus it is. I spent entirely too much time in his company to call him anything else!" Realizing that they would never understand the bond she shared with Severus, she decided to keep the rest to herself for the time being.

"I take it Caveo is related to Snape? The Prince thing and all? That doesn't do much to help his cause," Ron shot back at Hermione.

"He's his second cousin. And even if he were his brother, that wouldn't prove anything."

They arrived, completely out of breath, at the gargoyles that guarded the head office.

Hermione turned to them and spoke very seriously. "Listen, this might not make a lot of sense, but I hope it's about to make more sense. Please believe me when I tell you that I know exactly what I am saying, and that all I have done since I have been gone is try to find a way to help you, Harry."

Harry looked shamed. "I know. I'm sorry. I don't know if we'll ever get over being touchy about Snape. We're sorry for attacking you after all you've been through, aren't we, Ron?" He turned to Ron and pierced him with a threatening gaze.

"Sorry, Hermione. We're just worried about you, that's all." He shrugged his shoulders. "It's good to have you back."

"It's good to be back," Hermione replied, feeling slightly bad that she couldn't be more sincere in that sentiment than she was. "Brussels sprouts," she said to the gargoyles.

As they approached the door, Hermione turned to Harry and Ron one last time. "Now, this may be a wee bit of a shock." She knocked on the door.

"Come in, children!" came McGongall's harassed voice from within.

Hermione opened the door to find McGonagall at her desk with Dumbledore and a slightly bewildered Remus sitting in the chairs facing her.

"Dumbledore?" Harry asked in a cracking voice. A thud behind him signaled that Ron had passed out.

"It is good to see you again, Harry." Dumbledore rose and patted Harry on the shoulder. "I am very proud of the work that you have done finding the Horcruxes in my absence."

Harry looked up at him with disbelief. "But you're dead!"

Dumbledore chuckled. "I've been getting that a lot lately, Harry. Now, let us revive Mr. Weasley, and then we will chat." He passed his hand over the collapsed form of the redhead in the doorway, and Ron's eyes opened with a start.

"Professor Dumbledore?" Ron asked weakly.

"Yes, Mr. Weasley, I am alive." He reached down and pulled Ron to his feet. With another wave of his hand, three more chairs appeared in front of Minerva's desk, and he motioned for the younger witch and wizards to sit down.

"It is good to see you back," Remus offered to Hermione with a kind smile.

"Thank you, Remus. I am glad to be back." She blushed and returned her attention to Dumbledore.

"Now, let us get down to the matter at hand," Dumbledore announced, glancing around at the assembled crowd. "I have returned to you because Miss Granger here returned from her captivity with the understanding that Severus Snape is on our side. By believing in him, she restored loyalty to me to the castle. By returning with said loyalty, she was able to bring me back from the limbo in which my soul had been residing since the end of last term."

"Albus, I truly am sorry that I did not put more faith in Severus," McGonagall choked out through the tears she had been trying to suppress.

"I know, Minerva, I know. But there is no time for regrets right now. Harry, there is something I must tell you, something that may upset you to hear."

"Something more upsetting than finding out that Hermione's been locked up with your murderer all this time?" Harry's eyes burned with fury.

"I know that it is difficult for you to understand, Harry, but Severus did not murder me. I knew what he had to do, and I thought that someone would trust in Severus, and I would simply return to life. All Severus did to Hermione was give her the chance to believe in him and return to you with the potion that will save your life." He motioned to the box of potion vials on the desk.

"What potion?" Harry looked back and forth between Dumbledore, the vials, and Hermione.

"Harry, I know that the final Horcrux has eluded you thus far, but it has actually been right under your nose all this time. Or, rather, it has been right above it. The final Horcrux is your scar."

Harry's hand shot up to his forehead, and his face twisted in disgust. "Get it out of me, then!"

"I'm afraid it isn't that simple. You see, it is a part of you, and his soul is battling with yours right inside your body. In order to destroy it, we must ensure that your soul is bound to your body, and Tom must be the one to destroy the Horcrux." His smile bestowed calm on Harry. "That is where the potion comes in. The potion that Hermione and Severus made will keep your soul bound to your body when the time comes for you to face Tom again."

"How long have you known that I had it?" Harry asked, his voice revealing the betrayal he felt.

"I entertained suspicions about it last year, but it was only confirmed for me towards the beginning of term this year. I am sorry that I did not tell you my thoughts earlier. I did not want to alarm or distract you."

"Well, I'm a bit alarmed now," Harry replied, scratching wildly at his scar as though that would remove it from his head.

"Harry, listen to me," Hermione begged calmly. "We're all here for you, and we're going to help you. The Horcrux has been messing with your mind, so we need you to work on fighting it consciously so that you are healthy when Voldemort comes after you. Will you give us a chance?"

"We will all help you, Harry. Hermione has been through a lot to see that we're victorious in this, so you should listen to her." Remus smiled kindly at his best friend's son.

"Miss Granger, can you tell us anything about where Severus is?" Minerva's tone was tinged with sadness.

"No, I can't, and even if I could, I do not think that he wants to be found. He made it very clear that he didn't want to come here because he knew he would be arrested." Hermione crossed her arms over her chest in haughty defiance.

"Do you think that he knows anything about what Voldemort will do next?" Remus asked, his eyes still locked on Harry.

"Severus didn't really know anything. They never trusted him, so he was pretty much locked up with me all the time brewing." Hermione thought for a moment. "There is something else I should tell you. The Death Eaters were keeping Draco and a number of others prisoners in a cell at their hideout. Before I left, I was able to give them a Portkey to get out, but I don't know what's become of them. If and when they arrive, I need an assurance that they will be allowed to stay here until Voldemort is defeated. They are in real danger."

"The ferret is in danger? Are you crazy?" Ron let out an incredulous laugh.

"Yes, he is. He only did what he did to save his family, but now he is marked for death by his father. He never was a Death Eater, Ronald. He was in a tight spot." Hermione threw up her hands. "I know that you all think that I'm crazy, but none of you have seen what I've seen. You have to trust me."

"We do, my dear," Dumbledore soothed. "But do not worry, I think you will find that Hagrid is bringing them here now."

As if on cue, the door to the Headmistress' office burst open to reveal Hagrid, his pink umbrella pointed at Draco and his ragged army. "Professor, I found these ruffians… Dumbledore!" Hagrid's great beady eyes looked as though they would pop out of his skull. "What's goin' on around here?"

"I will explain it all to you later. For now, perhaps Hermione would like to take our guests to see Poppy in the hospital wing? You should Floo directly there so that no one happens to see Mr. Malfoy and his friends." Dumbledore looked sadly at Draco, his face bruised and cut, and his robes torn.

Hermione jumped to her feet, pushing past the bewildered Hagrid, and threw her arms around Draco. "You're safe at last, General. Are you all okay?"

Draco pushed back a stringy lock of his long blonde hair. "We aren't as bad as we look. As soon as my father realized what had happened with you and Severus, he and all of his friends came for us, so we got the bloody hell out of there. Awfully useful, this button." He grinned and held out the Portkey.

"Well, come on then. You lot need a good meal, new clothes, and some medical attention!" Hermione gently touched the arms of each of the warriors of Draco's Army, as though making sure they were really alright.

"We were so relieved when we heard that you'd got away, Lieutenant," Angelica replied, holding on to Draco for support. "Thank you so much for helping to get us out."

"Have you all gone crazy?" Ron piped up from his chair.

"I'll explain it all to you both later, Ron," Hermione answered, looking back and forth between Ron and Harry. "Come meet me in my room in the dungeons in an hour, okay?"

Ron looked over Draco carefully. "Alright. We'll be there."

With a final smile and nod to the professors and her two distraught best friends, she led Draco and his army to the fireplace and had them Floo into the hospital wing.

Once Hermione tumbled out of the fireplace behind Draco, she yelled, "Madam Pomfrey! We need you!"

The agitated nurse strode into the room from her office. "Miss Granger!" she squeaked out with relief. "And Mr. Malfoy, you no good…"

"Poppy," came Minerva's voice from the fireplace. "I will explain everything to you later, but for now I need you to see that these children are cared for and kept out of sight." As quickly as the stern words sounded, Minerva's head disappeared from the flames.

Poppy grumbled something under her breath, but she nonetheless ushered Draco's Army into a secluded corner of the hospital wing and erected a magical barrier to keep prying eyes from seeing any of its occupants. Pointing them each to a bed, she meandered off to retrieve some potions.

Hermione sat at the foot of Draco's cot, watching him as he relaxed onto the first mattress he had enjoyed in months. "What happened, Draco?"

Draco sighed heavily. "It's all coming down soon, Granger. Whether it's a matter of days or even hours, I do not know, but they're coming for Potter soon."

"You were right about them not trusting Severus. Once we had finished making the Animus Discindium potion, your father tried to poison him to get him to rape me." Hermione frowned deeply.

"I know. The bastard came in as soon as you left and told us all about it. He said Severus was a bloody fool, and that they were trying to get the recipe for this Animus Redimio to make the Dark Lord immortal. When they realized that the plan had failed, they decided to come and try to take out their frustrations out on us." Draco looked over at Angelica, who had abruptly fallen asleep on her bed. "That's when we got away."

"What will they do now that they don't have the potion?" Hermione gently used her wand to clean up the blood on Draco's skin.

"I don't think they care. They're just going to go on as they had planned and attack Hogwarts to get to Potter. I suppose the Dark Lord doesn't want to wait any longer and let anything else go wrong." He looked around the safe confines of the hospital wing with relief. "So, Dumbledore's alive?"

"You don't sound particularly surprised," Hermione commented wryly.

"I'm not. I never thought that Severus would agree to do it unless he knew that Dumbledore wouldn't really die." He sighed. "Even when I was at my most firm in my alleged loyalty to the Death Eaters, I knew that Severus was a good man. Why did it take so long for him to come back, though?"

Hermione chuckled. "His return depended on someone being here who was loyal to him. Once I came back with the belief that Severus was innocent, Dumbledore was able to return. It's a long story."

"Well, whatever. You did well, kid. You saved the lot of us, especially Angelica. I don't think she could have lasted much longer, strong though she is." He frowned in Angelica's direction.

Hermione grinned. "You love her, don't you?"

"Merlin, am I that transparent?" He smirked. "I must have picked up that bloody wearing my heart on my sleeve thing from you in all that time we were together."

She laughed in response. "I think that you'll get over it."

"You don't look so good, Granger. What aren't you telling me?" Draco eyed her critically.

"I'm just worried about Severus, that's all. I don't know where he is, or what he's going to do. He's still so conflicted." She rubbed at her weary eyes.

"If I may be so bold: did you two make the potion to save Potter?" He raised his eyebrow at Hermione.

"We did, and yes, that means we had to do what you're thinking we did." Hermione blushed deeply.

"You needn't be embarrassed about it around me. I'm sure Potter and Weasley will toss their Chocolate Frogs over it, but if Severus finally gave it up to you, it's a good sign for both of you. On the one hand, it means that he really does want to be a good man, and on the other, it means that you're worthy of his love."

"I think that love may be a bit of a strong word at this point." She ran her fingers through her hair. "It's complicated. I don't think that he's out of the proverbial woods quite yet."

Draco sat up and placed his hand on her shoulder. "You know that I don't really care what happens to Potter so long as this bloody war ends, but I do care about Severus. If you can bring him out of this hell he's been living in his entire life, then that will be your greatest victory. You're probably the only one with stomach enough to do it."


	19. War Drums

_A/N: Anogete gets an extra special thanks on this chapter, because the Death Eaters had run away with my commas, and she had to try to find them again! More thanks to my wonderful readers and reviewers: your comments have been very heartening as well as helpful! _

_Obligatory: None of these things belong to me; they all belong to JKR. I just like to have a bit of fun with them, and no profit is desired. _

--

After giving the highly edited version of all that had happened at the Death Eater manor to Harry and Ron, Hermione found herself cleaned up and in fresh robes having tea in her room with Albus Dumbledore.

"How did Harry and Mr. Weasley take the news, dear?" He smiled kindly at her.

"Well, I left out the bit about the bond and the blood because I think they are having a difficult time accepting that Severus is on our side. In time, perhaps they will understand why I did what I did, but for now, all they need to know is that I trust him, and that he helped us in keeping Harry safe." Hermione took small bites out of a biscuit.

"That is probably best, Hermione. How are you feeling?"

"Not great, Professor. Ever since I got back here, I've been feeling sick. I felt sick a lot when I was with Draco and the others, but now it's much worse. I asked Madam Pomfrey for a potion, but it doesn't seem to be working." Hermione put down the biscuit she had been unsuccessfully trying to eat.

"I think that we need to discuss this. It is no ordinary stomach ailment that's bothering you." He sipped at his tea. "When did you feel relief from this discomfort?"

Hermione thought for a moment. "When I was with Severus. I suppose that knowing he wasn't going to hurt me made me feel safe."

"I'm afraid it's a bit more than that. The pain you feel is the warning of the Animus Redimio. It's reminding you that it is there."

Hermione's face wrinkled in confusion. "I don't understand."

"When the bond was first activated in the fall, it was weak because you had not yet seen your match. Once you were united, it saw hope for its consummation. Once it was consummated, it took complete hold of you. It will never be satisfied until the two of you are together again." His eyes darkened. "I'm afraid that you will never find peace until you and Severus are reunited."

Hermione looked down into her teacup. "I'll die, won't I?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Yes, you will. I know that it sounds cruel in those terms, but the assumption is that you would not be able to go on living having been denied your one true match. You were brought into Severus' life to save him, and, if he turns away from that salvation, you will fade as his heart does."

"Will he die?"

"Physically, no, he will not die. But he will be tortured. He will not be able to sustain his magical abilities without the support of his heart." Dumbledore reached across the table and patted Hermione's hand. "I am sorry. I know that this is a lot to absorb."

Hermione looked about the room for a moment. "Do you think Severus knows that we are bonded?"

"Yes, I believe that he does. He certainly knows about the Animus Redimio enchantment, because he knows that I have one with the castle, but he is also very attuned to the magic that affects him. He may not have known what it was at first, but, now that you have sealed the bond, he likely most certainly understands what it is."

"Does he know that I will die if he does not embrace it?" She stirred her tea with a spoon absentmindedly.

"I cannot say. The Animus Redimio is complicated, and he may not understand the particulars of the bond you share."

"I hope that he does not know. I promised him that I would support whatever decision he made, so I will not force him to return to me out of obligation." She sat back in her chair, resolved. "That probably sounds awfully foolhardy, doesn't it?"

"It sounds like you are mature beyond your years, my dear." He stood and vanished his teacup. "It is quite late, and you certainly need your rest. Tomorrow, I must give Harry a crash course in defeating Voldemort, and I believe you should train Draco and his friends if they would like to join our side in battle. Is that acceptable?"

"Yes, of course. I know that they want to help." She smiled and escorted him to the door.

Just as Dumbledore was about to leave, he turned back to her. "Whatever you decide to do about Severus, you are still a very brave young witch. Do not let anyone, least of all me, try to persuade you one way or the other."

Hermione grinned sheepishly. "Thank you, sir. Goodnight."

The next day was a flurry of activity. Early in the morning, Dumbledore went to see Horace Slughorn and dragged him nearly kicking and screaming back to Hogwarts to teach Potions for the rest of the year. He told Hermione that she was welcome to assist him as she had Caveo, but that she was under no obligation.

She kindly informed him that, for now, she was turning all of her attention to the pending confrontation.

News of Dumbledore's resurrection spread like wildfire through the castle, as he had decided there was little useful tactical advantage in keeping his return a secret. Over Minerva's protestations, he refused to resume his position as Headmaster, choosing instead to keep a small office and commit himself to preparing Harry for his upcoming trials.

Hermione began her work with Draco's Army in the Room of Requirement, trying to teach them key hexes and defensive spells. Jane sat quietly and watched, refusing to let on her frustration that she would be unable to lend magical support to her friends.

Harry and Ron were both having a difficult time accepting that neither Severus nor Draco were their enemies, though Ron tried to bite his tongue when he was working with Hermione in training for battle. He was largely kept quiet by her promise that she had learned some very interesting hexes in her time at the Death Eater manor, and that she wouldn't hesitate to use them if he misbehaved.

The air in the castle was heavy with anxiety and apprehension as the older students waited for the storm to come. The eye of the hurricane was a calm place, but it also meant that wilder weather was on the inevitable horizon.

Hermione tried all day to hide the pain her stomach was causing her. Every time she took a moment to dwell on it, her thoughts would return to Severus, the man she loved, her perfect match. She knew that he was still alive, because she was still functioning. She needed to see him again, and soon, or her entire world would fall apart.

Eating dinner with Harry, Ron, and Draco's Army in the Room of Requirement, Hermione found that her appetite was still missing in action. Harry and Ron were busy regaling Andrew and Jeffrey with stories of their adventures while the other girls looked on in amusement.

Draco turned to the sullen Hermione. "Do you feel it?"

Hermione looked up with surprise. "Feel what?"

"That magic in the air. Dark magic. I always felt it when I would come home from Hogwarts. Dark magic seeps into your veins and chills your bones. If you have some kind of connection with Severus, I'm sure you can feel it too."

Hermione shuddered. "I suppose I just didn't know what it was. What do you think it means?"

Draco thought for a moment. "Hey, you lot, follow me." Draco made for the door.

"We can't all just go running out there, Draco. Someone could see us!" Hermione scolded.

"Don't you worry, Lieutenant. I know an obscure path, and everyone's at dinner." He grinned. "Just follow me, alright?"

Hermione nodded hesitantly, but they all walked quickly in silence to where Draco was leading them. He followed one of the most convoluted paths about the halls of the castle that Hermione had ever seen until they found themselves at the Astronomy tower.

"Look," Draco ordered, and they all gazed out the window.

In the dark and distant sky, Hermione could see ominous storm clouds gathering. Lightning burst forth from them and tore through the silence of the night.

"What's happening?" Elizabeth asked, her whole body shaking with fear.

"They're coming," Harry answered. "He's coming."

"Now?" Ron spat out, horrified. "So soon?"

"He has no reason to delay any longer," Draco replied evenly. "If he knows that Dumbledore is back, he'll want to strike while we're still disorganized."

"We've got to get to the Headmistress' office. Harry needs the potion. Come on!" Not caring for who saw them, Hermione led the stampede up to Professor McGonagall's office.

Once they got past the gargoyles and threw open the door, they found that they were not the only ones preparing for the confrontation. The eyes of Remus, Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Mad-Eye Moody, McGonagall, and Dumbledore all turned to face them.

"Ah, children, just in time," Dumbledore greeted them jovially.

"They're coming!" Hermione gasped through labored breaths. "Harry! The potion!"

"I know, my dear, I know. Here, Harry, take this. It might not taste too pleasant. Severus never has been able to figure out how to make potions with valerian root more palatable." Dumbledore held out a vial to Harry, and Harry swallowed it with a grimace.

"That smells awful, Hermione. What on earth is in it?" Harry shook his head and waited for the sickness in his stomach to pass.

_ i If only you knew /i _, Hermione thought to herself.

"We must try to keep the Death Eaters from getting into the castle and endangering the younger students. We have Aurors all around the gates, but we should all take up positions around the grounds, concentrating on protecting Harry," Moody growled, his magical eye pinned on Draco.

"I'll gather all of the willing older students and meet you at the main door." Remus stood and made to exit. Before he left, he turned to Harry. "We'll all be there for you, Harry. Be strong."

"Thanks, Remus." Harry tried to look more cheerful, but it was clear that the pain in his scar was taking up a lot of his energy.

"Right, then. Let's make our way to the grounds." McGonagall motioned towards the door, and everyone filed out silently.

No one dared to breathe as they moved into secure positions outside on the grounds. The dark magic that Hermione and Draco had felt earlier became even more palpable, and everyone shifted uncomfortably as it moved through their bodies.

"Malfoy?" Hermione whispered. She stood with Draco and his army a few yards from the front doors of the castle.

"Yes, Granger?" His voice was tense.

"Whatever happens, I want you to know that I admire you. You've turned out to be a decent ferret after all." She turned to him and smirked.

"Thank you," he replied, holding his hand over his chest in mockery. "As for you, you're not too bad for a Mudblood." He grinned.

"Don't let Angelica hear you say that," Hermione quipped, punching him lightly in the arm.

The thunder cracked in the distance, and Hermione shuddered. This was it, this was the moment she had been waiting for these many months. Since she had begun studying obscure branches of magic, since she had learned of Severus' innocence, since she had begun looking for a way to brew the Animus Redimio, since she had been taken prisoner and forced to spend day after day with Severus, she had been waiting for the truth to be told. She wanted nothing more than to see it all be done and find some way to live a normal life.

The clouds in the distance got closer, and rain began falling all around them. Several of the younger witches and wizards pulled their cloaks about them more tightly to protect them from the cold, but Hermione, Harry, Ron, and Draco all stood unmoved by the chill in the air. All that they could do was wait.

Minutes that seemed like hours passed as they all waited. Hermione didn't want to face the Death Eaters, but she also couldn't wait for this all to be over.

As if in answer to her silent prayer, pops of Apparation sounded outside the gates of the school, and from their position on the grounds, Hermione and the others could see the unmistakable black robes of a sea of Death Eaters. They wasted no time in beginning to throw hexes at the Aurors, and the Aurors responded.

Fighters from both sides poured in from their covered positions, and before long enough of the Aurors had been weakened for the Death Eater to breach the magical barriers keeping them from the gate and stormed in.

Without taking a moment to think about their strategy, Hermione and the others began fighting off as many Death Eaters as they could, Stupefying, freezing, and generally knocking over as they moved through them.

Dumbledore stood beside Harry, waiting for Voldemort to appear, and he didn't disappoint. He threw off all the curses Dumbledore tried to throw at him, trying to avoid facing any spell with Harry that would enact the Priori Incantatem.

Hermione found herself face-to-face with Bellatrix, and all of her anger at how the mad witch had treated her at the manor coursed through her veins.

"Ah, the renegade Mudblood. How like Severus' whores to lead him astray. Crucio!"

Hermione rolled on the ground to avoid the curse. "Expelliarmus!" she cast, pointing her wand at Bellatrix and taking her unawares. As Bellatrix's wand flew from her hand, Hermione cast, "Petrificus Totalus!" Bellatrix stopped in her tracks and fell over, frozen.

Hermione dodged hexes and curses as she made her way through the crowd, trying to make sure that all of her friends were safe. She tried to ignore the remaining pain in her stomach, but she couldn't help but worry that her illness would slow her reactions and put everyone in danger.

Still, she pressed on, and out of the corner of her eye she could see Harry standing strong behind Dumbledore as he and Voldemort taunted each other with easily blocked curses.

Bellatrix had begun to stir several yards away from her, and Neville was upon her, the need to get revenge for the torture of his parents making his battle readiness impressive.

The grounds of Hogwarts were covered with crisscrosses of hexes and curses. There was no way to tell who lay among the fallen bodies, and whether they were friend or foe. All she could do was seek out the frightening masks and robes of the Death Eaters and bring down as many of them as she could.

A voice from somewhere behind her and to her left called out to her. "Hermione! Look out in front of you!" announced Draco's voice urgently.

She whipped around to see the towering figure of Lucius Malfoy, his mask removed, and his eyes dancing with evil delight.

"Ah, Mudblood. I thought I would see you again." With a flick of his wand, he disarmed her.

"You will have to do better than that, Malfoy," she taunted, shooting a Stunning Hex at him with her wandless magic.

"Very impressive, Mudblood slut. Tell me, did you use this power of yours to brainwash my good friend Severus?"

Their verbal and magical spar continued in tandem, each managing to elude the curses of the other.

"Perhaps I should ask you the same question. Take that!" She tried out a darker curse, one that was meant to cause the feeling of fire on one's genitals.

"And that's probably why Severus likes you. He always was one to be led around by his balls." He tried Stunning her again.

"Lucius!" came a voice from behind the blond Death Eater's shoulder.

Both Hermione and Lucius turned to look at the source of the voice, but Hermione hardly needed to hear it to know the person to whom it belonged. She knew it the moment she felt her stomach relax right before Draco warned her that Lucius was there.

Severus stood tall in all his glory. What shocked both Hermione and Lucius was the fact that Severus was dressed in Death Eater robes, his mask having fallen off somewhere in the struggle.

Hermione went completely numb as she met his cold eyes and watched him look back and forth between her and Lucius. Feeling completely alone and afraid, she turned behind her to see Draco crawling towards her, his wand trying to find a target to defend her. She turned back to see Lucius and Severus raise their wands. Some unreadable expression crossed Severus' face as his wand pointed in a decidedly neutral direction.

"Severus, don't," she choked out. "Please, Severus," she called out to him through Silent Speech.

"Hermione!" Draco called again, just a few feet away.

As things started to seem hopeless, she watched as Lucius turned to Severus and remarked, "Don't worry, Severus, I'll take care of this thorn in your side for you." He turned back to Hermione with his wand raised as she doubled over on the ground and wretched. "Avada Kedavra."


	20. When It Alteration Finds

_A/N: Much love and thanks to my dear beta, anogete, for all of her help with my writing. Extra special thanks go out to my readers; I'm glad you're still reading after the evil cliffie of the last chapter!_

_Obligatory: None of these things belong to me; they all belong to JKR. I just like to have a bit of fun with them, and no profit is desired. _

--

"Hermione, can you hear me?"

As in one of her dreams, the voice of Albus Dumbledore called to her unconscious.

"Is this heaven?" she wondered to herself.

"No, it is not heaven, Hermione. Can you open your eyes? Will you open your eyes and look at me?"

It took a great deal of effort, but somehow Hermione was able to open her eyes and look through the haze to see nothing but a halo of light surrounding the greatest wizard of all time.

"Am I dead?" she choked out, her whole body conspiring to keep her from forming more coherent thoughts.

"No, you are not dead, my dear. You are very much alive." Like beacons in the fog of her thoughts, Dumbledore's eyes twinkled brightly at her.

"But Lucius, he cast…" Hermione tried to catch her breath.

"Shh, calm down. I know. Lucius cast the Avada Kedavra at you. But you didn't die. In fact, according to Poppy, there is nothing physically wrong with you. The force of the curse pushed you over, and you hit your head on a rock, knocking you out. But that wound has been healed."

"Then why do I feel…" Hermione tried to lift her head, but it was no use.

"You're fading away, Hermione," Albus answered sadly, and Hermione could feel his hand smoothing down her hair. "It's the Animus Redimio."

"Severus," she choked out. "He's betrayed me."

Albus frowned. "I wish that I could say I disagreed with you, but I am just as confused as you are about what happened. I'm afraid that, in the chaos of the battle, I was unable to witness what occurred between you two and the Malfoys. The only information that I have has come from Draco."

"What... what did Draco say?" Hermione coughed and felt her head flop over to the side.

"When Lucius cursed you, Draco killed him, and then Severus ran. He retrieved his mask, so no one knows what he did after that. He is not among the arrested Death Eaters, nor among the bodies." He sighed. "And as for the bodies, we lost some good Aurors and Order members, but you can rest assured that your friends fought bravely and will survive their injuries."

"Harry?" Hermione managed.

"The potion worked," Albus replied triumphantly. "Tom is dead, and Harry is safe. He will need some time to feel like himself again, as the battle with the Horcrux was taxing on him, but he is going to be fine. He owes you his life."

Hermione managed to gather her strength to ask the obvious question. "Professor, I know that Lucius' curse should have killed me. How is it possible that I am alive?"

"Ah, yes, of course. I can only speculate at this point, but I believe that it was the Animus Redimio."

Hermione let out a shuddering sigh. "I didn't take the potion." She tried to raise her head, but managed only to flop it to the other side.

"Not the potion, my dear, but the enchantment. Like I could not die as long as there were still people in the castle who were loyal to me and needed my help, you could not die as long as the one to whom you are bound still needs you to save his heart." He pulled the blanket up around Hermione as she shivered.

"I don't understand."

"We may think that Severus has betrayed us, but he could not let you go. You didn't die, because somewhere inside of him, he still needs you, wants you even. You cannot give up hope. If you do, you may not survive long enough to see him again." Albus placed a cool cloth on Hermione's sweat beaded forehead.

"What will become of me?" Hermione couldn't keep her strength up for much longer.

"I do not know, Hermione, but I want you to rest. I'm going to let a couple of your friends come in, one at a time, to talk to you, if that's alright. Don't try to talk to them, just listen. I'm afraid that I had to explain the nature of your bond to them, but they are not going to scold you. Okay?" He patted her on the arm.

"How long have I been knocked out?" Hermione managed to whisper.

"A little over two days," answered Albus before leaving the room.

Hermione felt as though she had been knocked over by the Knight Bus. Her whole body shook with the pain that radiated from her stomach. She had never remembered being so weak or tired in her entire life. It was almost as if she were sleeping and wide awake at the same time, unable to choose which state in which to be.

In her conscious awareness, the door to the room opened.

"Hey, Granger. You look like hell." Draco laughed. "I know you can't answer me, but I thought you'd enjoy a little one-sided chat." He paused, and Hermione could hear him shift in his seat. "It was a wild night.

"You should have seen Longbottom go after my dear old aunt. He was incredible. I never knew that he had that kind of mania in him. Are you cold? Here, let me put another blanket on you." Hermione felt the warmth of an additional blanket around her body.

"Anyway, when the Dark Lord faced off with Potter, it was like everything stood still. After I killed Lucius, I looked around and saw that things were coming to a head. Potter and the Dark Lord were locked in that Priori-whatever thing, and Dumbledore was trying to distract the monster. Eventually, Potter broke the lock and let the Dark Lord try to kill him. As soon as the curse hit him, the entire sky lit up, and this flash came from Potter's head that seemed to get inside the Dark Lord and blow him up or something. In the confusion, they were able to round up all the other Death Eaters.

"I'm sure that Potter and Weasley are going to tell you that they told you so or some rubbish about Severus, but, from what I saw, he wasn't really on anyone's side. I don't know why he was there, but after Lucius cursed you, he ran off. It was too dark for me to see his face, but I can't bring myself to believe that he really came to fight against us. It just doesn't make any sense.

"Oh, and it might interest you to know that, since Angelica's family is dead, my father is dead, and my mother's going to Azkaban, she and I are going to get a flat together. Separate beds and all, so it isn't untoward, but a nice little place so that we can take care of each other and recover from all of this. Everything that's happened has taken its toll on everyone.

"I hope that you feel better soon, Lieutenant. I think that my army would be pretty distraught if you died. After all, they all think that you're our savior or some rubbish. I guess they're right." He laughed. "Well, I'm going to let Weasley in. I'll tell him to take it easy on you."

Hermione could hear him make to leave, but then turn around, grab her hand, release it, and exit.

Next, she heard Ron come stomping in and throw himself down on a chair.

"Hey, Hermione. I guess you probably heard what happened to Harry, but I'm sure the ferret didn't manage to tell you that between me, Ginny, Fred, George, Bill, and Charlie, we rounded up half of the Death Eaters on the grounds. Even Percy helped my parents, though I don't think he actually successfully brought anyone down.

"I saw you go down. I was fighting with Wormtail when I heard you scream at Snape. I was so scared, Hermione. I was so angry, but, for some reason, seeing the ferret kill his father kind of helped me fight through it. I went over to you after Harry brought down Voldemort, and you were still warm. I thought I was just dreaming it, but then I felt your pulse, and Remus felt it too, so we levitated you to the hospital wing." Ron took a deep breath.

"Dumbledore told us about how you survived, and what's going on with you now. I can't believe that you can't come back to us unless… I'm sorry; I didn't mean to harp on it. Dumbledore and Harry made me promise not to. I just want you back, Hermione. We all do. I mean, we'll still have to take our N.E.W.T.s, so how will I get through them without you? You have to come back to us, and if getting that traitor Snape to come here will do it, I'll go find the bastard myself!

"I'm sorry, really. Well, I should let Harry come in and say hello. He's still pretty weak, so he can't be out of bed for too long. I'm going to come and see you every day until you get better, Hermione, I swear it. We'll get through this." Hermione tried to answer, but she couldn't. All she could do was sigh when Ron gently touched her cheek. "I always thought that it would be you and me. If I could break this bond or whatever it is and take care of you, I would."

With a sniff, Ron left the room.

Hermione wanted to cry for the pain she felt in the voices of her friends, even Draco's, as they came in to talk to her. She wanted to tell them that everything was going to be alright, but she didn't have the strength to do it. She could feel herself slipping further and further back into her mind.

From the distance of her consciousness, she could hear Harry's voice keeping her anchored in reality. "I don't know if you can hear me, Hermione, but Dumbledore said that now was the time to talk to you if we had something important to say.

"I don't know what was in that potion that you made, but when Voldemort hit me with the curse, I felt invincible. I know that you sacrificed a lot to save me, and I want you to know that, whatever happens and whomever you love, I will always appreciate what you did.

"I've spent a lot of time talking to Ginny since the battle, and she told me what I've been like. I guess that I just wasn't aware of how I was treating everyone, and how much danger I was putting everyone in. I just had no idea that there was something in me making me evil. I am so sorry for anything I may have done to you. I never meant to hurt anyone.

"As for Ginny, she agreed to take me back, somehow. I am so lucky to have people like her who really care about me. I guess that makes me understand the whole Snape thing. Even someone like Snape needs someone to make him see the brighter side of life. If anyone can kick him in the arse and make him see that, it's you. I just hope that it's sooner rather than later."

Hermione was struck by the weak sound of Harry's voice and the sadness in it. "Well, I've got to get back to bed. I mean, I know I'm not as bad off as you, but I'm still pretty beat. I'll be back soon. Get well, Hermione. We need you."

As she listened to Harry leave, she allowed her hold on consciousness to slip. Everything went black, and the silence in the room was oppressive in her mind.

--

"Yes, Hagrid, please let Severus in," came Dumbledore's voice from inside his small office.

Severus huffed in irritation as Hagrid stuck his pink umbrella in his back. "I'll be close by if yer need me, Professor. I wouldn't trust this one."

Dumbledore laughed. "I am not worried about Severus, Hagrid. Please go about your business."

Hagrid hesitated, but then slowly backed out of the door.

Dumbledore motioned for Severus to sit down, and then conjured two cups of coffee. He sipped at his own cup, waiting for Severus to speak.

"So, you were right after all. You did eventually come back," Severus muttered out, taking a drink of the warm, black liquid.

"Well, I never said that my plan was foolproof, Severus. I am sorry that it took so long for the truth to come to light, for your sake." He smiled kindly at the younger wizard.

Severus waved his hand in dismissal. "It is of no matter to me. I never believed your harebrained scheme anyway."

"In that case, we should move on." Albus stood and began pacing in front of his fireplace. "You came here voluntarily, so that means that you are either here to turn yourself in or explain to me why you shouldn't have to."

"I don't know what you mean," Severus replied, looking away.

"At least a dozen people saw you at the battle in your Death Eater robes. It came as quite a shock to me after all that has happened." He pulled off his spectacles and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I thought that you had settled on the side of the Order."

Severus sighed deeply and took another sip of his coffee. "I did settle, but I knew that I would put everyone in more danger if I showed up undisguised. I thought that I could come and infiltrate the Death Eaters, but I did not count on my mask coming off in all of the confusion. I am sorry."

"If that is true, then why did you run? Why not come to me and explain yourself?" Albus moved back to his desk and sat in his chair.

"You know why I ran. Do not make me say it out loud."

"I may be a mind reader, Severus, but perhaps you will remember that your mind is difficult for me to read, considering your talent for Occlumency. Why don't you tell me?" He stared at Severus over his spectacles.

"Do not play this game with me, Albus. Too much has happened for that. You know that I am afflicted with a certain magical leash, and since I have consummated it, I have been experiencing quite a lot of discomfort."

"You make it sound very distasteful, my boy," Albus responded with a smirk.

"It is distasteful to me!" Severus roared. "She is dead! What am I supposed to do now? I came here to ask you if you knew any way to do something about this!"

"Does her being dead make you sad, Severus?"

"I do not know how it makes me feel. I would have continued trying to fight it until we consummated the bond. I never much believed in this Animus Redimio nonsense until I felt the magic that we created." He squeezed his eyes shut in concentration. "How long do I have?"

"How long do you have until what?" Albus asked playfully.

"Until I am no longer able to do magic, you fool. I do not understand how you can find her being dead and me on the verge of death amusing!" Severus stood and paced furiously on the same path Albus had taken.

"Hermione isn't dead, Severus."

Severus stopped in his tracks, and his head snapped up. "Do not play with me, Albus."

"Don't you think that you would be able to feel it if she really were dead?" Albus leaned forward in his seat. "She lives."

Severus sat back down in his seat, bewilderment clear across his face. "How is that possible? I saw Lucius kill her. I watched the curse hit her! No one can survive that unless…"

"Do you believe in the Animus Redimio now? You couldn't let go of her, so she did not leave you." Albus looked into the fire. "So, you see, you came for nothing. I cannot remove a bond that magic has forged."

"Oh, Gods," Severus mumbled, covering his face with his hands. "Where is she?"

"She is in a coma in the hospital wing," Albus answered evenly.

"But I thought that the curse…"

"It isn't the curse that is keeping her in the coma. The last time that anyone saw you, you came to the battle dressed as a Death Eater. She had been fighting the pain of your separation by clinging to the hope that you would come and fight with the Order. When she thought that you had betrayed her, she fell apart. I was able to speak to her early last week, but since then, no one has been able to get any kind of response from her. Poppy tells me that she will die if we do not come up with some solution." Albus relaxed back into his chair and tapped his chin with his finger.

"I take it you have not come up with anything?" Severus refused to meet Albus' gaze.

"I have, but until now, it has been impossible." Albus caught Severus' eyes and compelled him to look at him.

"What is it that you want me to do?" Severus asked with a shaky voice.

"When you go to her, you will know what you have to do. However, I expect that, at his point, only the most drastic of measures will work." He narrowed his eyes at Severus. "You know of what I speak."

Severus chuckled darkly. "I am not going to lie with her when she is in a coma. That would be like rape!"

"You will be able to get her consent, Severus. I believe that you will be able to reach into her mind with Silent Speech and tell her what you have to do. Mind you, she may put up some resistance at first, but if you explain to her why you did what you did, I think she will understand. Right now, she needs to know you are on her side, and she needs to come back to consciousness. We can discuss the rest after that."

"There is no 'the rest.' I will do what I need to do to save her life, and then I will leave her be. She has done nothing to deserve being bound to me. If that means I lose the ability to do magic, then I will risk it." Severus crossed his arms over his chest.

"And that's all? You're going to sacrifice your magic to keep the two of you apart?" Dumbledore scoffed. "What if that isn't the best thing for her?"

"She told me that all she wanted was for me to be able to make my own decision for once. And now, I can. I do not have the Dark Lord holding my life over my head, and I do not have you holding loyalty and a 'Get out of Azkaban free' ticket over my head. I am giving her the same courtesy. I will not force her to be bound to me to save me."

Albus sighed and returned his gaze to the fire. "I have more to say to you later, but you need to go to Hermione right now. Will you do what you need to do?"

"I am not a monster, Albus. Take me to her."


	21. Peace Out of Mind

_A/N: Many thanks to my dear beta, anogete; she's a gem if ever there was one! Also, thank you once more to my readers and reviewers. I am so sorry for not religiously replying to your reviews, but I appreciate every single one more than I can say! I am so very sorry for the delay in posting the end of this story, but RL sometimes gets in the way._

_Obligatory: None of these things belong to me; they all belong to JKR. I just like to have a bit of fun with them, and no profit is desired. _

--

Severus stood in Hermione's private room in the hospital wing, looking down at her. He could not help but compare how she had looked the last time he had watched her sleep with the shadow of the woman he had been with that lay before him.

So many times at Death Eater manor he had watched her sleep. He knew then that the bond was getting stronger and imposing its will on them both, but he had tried to fight it. He did not want to give in to yet another situation that he couldn't control. And yet, now he wondered if it would be giving in. Yes, she was entirely too young, and it would never be accepted, but he wanted to believe that he could be loved by someone. He wanted to believe that what he thought and what he wanted mattered.

He shook his head. He was in an impossible situation. She had saved his life, and now he had to save hers. That much he knew for certain. Beyond that, he had no idea what he was going to do about this young woman to whom he was bound.

"Hermione?" he whispered quietly. "Hermione, can you year me?"

She did not stir. She was so still that it hardly looked like she was breathing. How was he going to gain her consent if she was barely alive?

Then, he had a thought. Summoning all of his magical energy, he reached out to her mind with Silent Speech. "Hermione, can you hear me?"

"Go away," her voice answered in his mind.

"What?"

"You aren't Severus. Severus is gone. You're just a figment of my imagination." Her voice was weak and full of despair.

"What would it take to make you believe that I really am here?" He brushed an errant curl off of her face.

"You betrayed me," she replied with venom.

"I know that is how it seems, Hermione, but it is not true. Will you at least listen to me?" He willed her eyes to open, but they did not.

"I'm obviously not doing anything else."

"I knew that I would be attacked by the Aurors if I came to the battle, but I had to come. I could not hide while the rest of you fought. My Dark Mark began to burn, so I knew that they were on the move. I thought that I could infiltrate the Death Eaters in disguise and help the Order, but my mask came off, and I knew that everyone would be on me for my various sins." He took a deep breath. "When I saw Lucius kill you, I…"

"You don't have to say it, Severus. I know that it is difficult for you to admit your feelings." Her voice had lost its angry edge.

"Can you forgive me?" He trembled as he touched her hand.

"I have hoped and prayed for you to come and tell me that I had misunderstood, Severus. I believe you. Besides, if Dumbledore let you in, he must believe you, so I do as well."

"Thank you." He shifted in his seat uncomfortably and considered her limp body.

"What happens now?" Her voice was just barely a whisper in his mind.

Severus cleared his throat and stood up. "Drastic measures must be taken to revive you," he explained in his most businesslike voice.

"Drastic measures?" she asked mockingly.

"Do not make this more difficult than it is. The bond must be called upon to bring you out of your unconscious state. We have to…" he paused and paced around.

"What do we have to do, Severus?" Her voice was soothing and calming in his troubled mind.

"We have to do what we did to strengthen the hold of the bond in the first place," he finally admitted shamefully.

"I thought as much."

"Does that not upset you?" His head snapped back around to look at her.

"Honestly, you act as if we haven't done it before!" Her voice was gaining strength.

"I know, but you were conscious then. I do not feel right about doing this now." He turned his back to her.

"You know, you're the first person who has been able to talk to me since the first time I woke up, and I don't know how long ago that was."

"Albus tells me that it was nearly two weeks ago." He turned back around and looked at her. "No one has even been able to use Silent Speech to talk to you?"

"I don't think so."

"Hmm." He sat down on the bed and stared down at her. "Will you… will you allow me to kiss you?"

"I thought that you would never ask, Severus," she teased.

He leaned down over her, still feeling somewhat perverse, cupped her cheek with one hand, and brushed his lips against her dry mouth. "Did you feel that?"

"No," she answered sadly. "Try it again."

Once again, with great uncertainty, he tangled his fingers in her hair and leaned down to kiss her more firmly. "How about then?"

"No." Her voice betrayed her disappointment.

Severus looked down at Hermione and considered the situation in detail. "The pain of separation from me… was that the source of the discomfort in your stomach?"

"Yes."

Concentrating all of the strength he gained from the power of their bond, he placed his hand over her stomach and gave it an impossibly gentle squeeze before capturing her lips with his own again. "Come back to me, Hermione. I need you to open your eyes," he whispered into her mind.

He thought he was imagining it, but suddenly he felt her lips part. He stopped thinking and just acted as he snaked his tongue into her mouth.

It almost seemed chance that her mouth had fallen open, but a small moan of encouragement escaped from between their lips. Severus pulled back and saw that her eyes were open. They were drowsy and bloodshot, but they were open.

"Now can you hear me?" he asked her aloud.

"Yes," she confirmed meekly with a small smile. "Please, Severus, make love to me. Make this pain go away."

"Are you certain?" He searched her eyes for permission to continue.

"I have forgiven you, I need you, and I am asking you to do this. Whether you are doing it out of obligation or because you care, please just do it so that I can have the strength to have whatever conversation we need to have." Her pained expression pleaded with him.

"I do not know if this will be a… I doubt if this will be a pleasant experience for you." He gently touched her forehead with the tips of his fingers.

She smiled kindly. "I cannot imagine how making love with you would not be a pleasant experience, Severus."

His only response was a grunt as he leaned in to kiss her again. Though he felt that he could lose control over himself at any moment, he harnessed his energy and remained gentle.

He was uncharacteristically nervous, however, and the trembling of his body gave away his feelings. "Can you sit up so that I might, well, so that I might…"

"I don't think that I can. It's alright. Just lift up my robes." He knew that she was trying to make it as painless as possible for him.

For some reason, her words had an instantaneous effect on his libido, and his erection sprang to life inside his trousers. "It almost seems like rutting to do it that way."

She reached up a weak hand to his face. "It will not make me think any less of you."

Finally taking her actions as permission, he pulled away the layers of blankets that had been piled on her to keep her warm. He rested on his side, propped up on one arm, and lightly ran his fingers down her side. She trembled at his most delicate of touches.

He closed his eyes as he leaned in to kiss her again, thrilling all over as her tongue reached out to tentatively touch his own.

That was nearly his undoing, and he moved his hand even further down her body to hike up the bottom of the loose hospital robes she was wearing until his hand made contact with her knickers and the smooth, warm skin stretched over her hip bone. He hooked a finger over the elastic band and pulled them away from her body.

She trembled incessantly as he explored her warm center with his fingers, finding it already wet and ready for him. He could stand it no more, his soul needing this encounter every bit as much as hers did. He removed his free hand from her and freed his straining erection from his trousers.

Positioning himself over her, he looked down at her. The first time he had been in this position, he felt dirty, ashamed, as though being inside of her would somehow taint her. Looking at her now, she was not tainted, but rather even more enthralled with him than she had been then. Though she was obviously suffering, there was a light in her weary eyes that told him that she wanted him, that she needed him.

It was all the permission for which he was looking.

Without any more hesitation, he caught her lips again and slid into her slowly. She sighed with relief as she enveloped him, using all of her energy to pulse along with his thrusts.

It was much more leisurely than their first coupling, as much out of necessity due to Hermione's condition as it was out of the nature of this act. This time, there was no blood to gather, no potion to make. This time, it was only the saving of their tortured hearts and bodies that they had to consider. Severus couldn't imagine needing anyone else but her.

As he felt himself nearing his climax, he gazed at her reverently. "Are you alright?"

"I don't know if I've ever been better," she replied, the strength obviously returning to her.

"Then come with me," he demanded, increasing the friction with her clitoris, bringing her to a trembling orgasm and himself to an explosive completion.

Afraid of crushing her, he pulled himself out of her and rolled over onto his back. Watching her out of the corner of his eye, he could see that the color was returning to her skin, and that her breaths were deeper and steadier.

It had worked. The Animus Redimio had been satisfied, and Hermione was on the mend.

Neither spoke, but Severus' mind was running on overdrive. He had done it. He had saved her, and now she knew that he had not betrayed her. Whatever cost it was to him and his magical abilities, he had to walk away so that he did not cause her any more pain. He could not allow the powers of magic itself to command him. He had to go into exile.

Hermione rolled onto her side and looked at him adoringly. "Thank you for that, Severus."

His gaze met hers. "There is no need to thank me. Your condition was my fault to begin with." Abruptly, he sat up and performed a quick cleansing spell on both of them before fastening his trousers and standing up.

He could feel her confused and hurt gaze on his back as he heard her pull the blankets back over her body. "Are you going somewhere?"

"I need some time to think. I need some time alone. I am sorry." He opened the door and began walking out of it.

"Severus, please!" were the last words he heard before he shut the door and made for the grounds.

--

Though Hermione's body was feeling better, her emotions were far from recovered. She knew why he had left. She knew that he was still uncertain about the Animus Redimio. She knew that he was wary of yet another force controlling his life.

Still, a more rational side of her told her that she should stop being so concerned for Severus' feelings and his bloody free will and start worrying about her survival. The last time her friends had spoken with her, their voices were so full of sadness. Could she leave them? Could she let go of life all for someone else's principles?

The combination of lying in bed for weeks and being awakened by such a passionate encounter had left her body weak and trembling. Experimentally, she rose slowly from the bed and tried to shake the cobwebs from her muscles and her mind. She had not been conscious of the time that had passed since she was last awake, and thus she had not expected moving to be so difficult. However, slow, deliberate movements, and an attempt to regulate her blood pressure by not moving too fast, aided in getting her safely out of bed.

She saw a pile of her plain robes on a shelf next to her bed, and she called them to her with a wave of her hand. With great effort, she managed to shed the hospital robes she had been wearing and replaced them with the comfort of her own clothes.

Charming her hair into a bun, she quietly exited the room, finding that she had been lodged in chambers not adjoining the main hospital wing. She was able to meet no resistance as she made quickly for the Hogwarts grounds, the soul of her mate guiding her to her destination.

As she exited the school, she could see the billowing black robes of her lover standing still in the distance. With cautious grace, she glided over to where he stood and paused a few feet behind him.

"Go back to bed," he whispered into her mind with Silent Speech.

"Not until you've heard what I have to say, Severus," was her firm answer to his command.

He hesitated for a moment. "Go on, then."

"I know that none of this is easy for you, and I know why you cannot face me. I will respect whatever decision you make. However, I do care for you, and, though I am young, I would welcome the chance to be in your life. I don't care how long it takes for you to think things over. If you decide to return to me, I will be waiting." She allowed her words to ring out in his mind for a few seconds before she turned and made her way back to the castle.

On her way to the doors, she could see the form of Albus Dumbledore striding towards her, his face as serene as ever.

"Ah, Miss Granger," he greeted her. "It is good to see you up and about."

"Thank you, sir. It is good to be back in the world of the living again." She paused in her progress and kept her head down as she spoke.

"I wonder, then, why it is that I find you here, walking away from Severus. Is there a problem?" His concerned voice made her raise her head to look at him.

"You know very well what the problem is," she replied with a touch of venom. "He needs time to think things over."

"The time he has is not infinite. Is this how you would choose to live your life, Hermione? Lying unconscious in bed, waiting for him to come and revive you only to sink back into a coma again?" He reached out and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Can't you make him understand?"

"He does not need to know the consequences his turning away from me will have. I will not be yet another tether to tie him to some responsibility he did not choose." She felt a tear slip from her eye. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I am going back to my rooms in the dungeons and getting some rest."

She waited until she was at the doors of the castle to allow the tears to flow freely from her eyes.

--

Staring off into the Forbidden Forrest, Severus felt the ache in his chest return. He would never find any peace from his soul so long as his mate called for him to come to her. There had to be a way to let her go, to reject her and keep her from wanting to be with him. It was the only way to give her the life that she deserved.

"You know that is not possible, Severus." Albus appeared beside him, seemingly deep inside of his thoughts.

"What do you know about it?" Severus snapped back, turning to look at his mentor.

"You cannot just wish away the bond of the Animus Redimio. Quite frankly, I cannot imagine why anyone would want to. The bond that I share with this school is very precious to me, and I cannot understand why you would not embrace this gift that magic has given you." Albus studied the imposing form of the younger wizard carefully.

"It may be a gift to me, but it is a curse to her. She is a strong-willed young woman. Why should she want to obey a magical edict any more than I do?" His black eyes danced with fury.

"Would you have her die to maintain your freedom from magic?" Albus asked seriously, all mischievous twinkling gone from his eyes.

"Die? What are you talking about?"

Albus sighed. "Do you think that you are the only one who will face consequences if you walk away from her, Severus? Now that the bond has taken hold of both of you, to deny it is to destroy your magical abilities and end her life. She needs you, Severus. She needs you to choose to remain with her."

Severus' anger turned to confusion. "Does she know this?"

"Yes, she does. She has known for some time." Albus looked down sadly.

"Why did she not tell me?" A touch of rage returned to his voice, and he took a few steps away from Albus.

The older wizard was quick to close the distance between them. "Why indeed. She seems to believe that she has no right to tell you what to do."

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes tightly. "She has that same damnable Gryffindor courage with which you are cursed, Albus."

Albus laughed. "We do not find it so damnable as you Slytherins. Doesn't it make you feel something for her to know that she would risk her life to allow you to make the choice between your supposed freedom and sharing the bond with her?"

"It makes me feel that she is foolish. Why would she risk her life for me?" He turned his head back to Albus.

"Because she loves you, Severus. You will tell me it is because the bond is coercing her to do so, but the magic that governs it is not so cruel. It would only work if she were capable of loving you freely. The same applies to you."

"Are my rooms still available?" Severus inquired after a few silent minutes between the two wizards.

Albus chuckled. "Your old Head of House refused to sleep in them after Andreas left. He thinks that they are cursed. I will have the house-elves retrieve your belongings from storage and make the room ready for you."

"I need some time alone. I cannot think with all of you talking at me."

"You are every bit as stubborn as you were when I first met you." He shook his head. "Imagine what everyone who fears you would think if they knew that your mind was still governed by the prejudices and anger you held as an eleven year old boy."


	22. Where Loyalties Lie

_A/N: Once more, I want to thank my fabulous beta, anogete. This story would be a mess without her! Thank you also to my wonderful readers and reviewers. I have been so flattered and honored by your thoughtful and lovely comments! Please forgive me for the lengthy delay in posting the ending to this tale!_

_Obligatory: None of these things belong to me; they all belong to JKR. I just like to have a bit of fun with them, and no profit is desired. _

--

Sleep did not come easily for Hermione as she lay on her side in the bed of her rooms in the dungeons of Hogwarts. Whether it was because she had slept for so long in her heartbreak-induced sickness, or because she could not stop thinking about Severus, she did not know. She could still feel their healing encounter emanating from her core and spreading through her body like a balm. Why couldn't things be as simple as they had been this morning, with him taking her into his arms and soothing the pain left by his absence? Why did the magic between them really have to be magic? Why couldn't they have come together without the assistance of a power beyond their control?

A tear spilled from her eye as she reflected on the last year. Her entire view of herself had changed in the time since Severus' heart had reached out to its missing piece in her. She was still herself, still Hermione Granger, but to know that magic had shaped her to save the heart of Severus Snape made her feel somehow different. Was everything she had ever done completed for this one task? Was there a step in her journey that was not meant to lead her to him and to help him save his beleaguered soul?

Her heart raced, not in the fear it should have felt, but in anticipation as the mattress compressed behind her. She did not need to turn to see who it was, for a thrill in her chest identified him.

One of his strong arms grabbed her about the waist and pulled her body to him, her ear coming to rest beneath his mouth.

"I am not a nice man," Severus whispered into the waiting ear, his voice quiet but still possessed of its usual silkiness.

"I have never had much time for nice men," came her even reply.

"I am quite old."

"Albus Dumbledore is quite old."

"I have little patience."

"I will not test it."

"I am easily startled."

"I'll approach you with caution."

"I am possessive."

"I would be yours completely."

There was a pause, but he continued on. "I have crooked teeth."

"You have got me there, Severus Snape. You have got crooked teeth." She tried to maintain as serious an expression as possible, yet a playful tone crept into her voice. "Sorry, what do you expect from a woman with dentists for parents?"

He grasped her arm firmly and turned her around to face him. What she saw took her breath away. He lay there, looking at her with his dark, impenetrable gaze, dressed only in a plain white t-shirt and a pair of black boxer shorts, no doubt a remnant of his half-Muggle upbringing.

"If only the explanation for what I have done to deserve you could be given so easily," he muttered, tracing two of his fingers along her jaw.

"You would probably have to get Dumbledore in here to explain the whole thing again. I'm afraid it's quite bewildering," she explained with a contented smile at his touch.

"You never told me that you knew the consequences my walking away from you would have," he mumbled with a frown deepening the lines on his face.

"After all the other things I have said to you, it would have made me a prat of the highest order, wouldn't it have?" Her tone became serious as they studied one another.

"You would allow yourself to die if I had not the heart to make this decision?" His caress on her face turned to a tight grip.

"That's sort of the whole issue, though, isn't it? You do have the heart. You have it because someone or something has seen that I came into your life to keep it safe. If you walked away, there would be no reason for me to haunt you."

For the first time in a long time, Severus let out a relaxed chuckle. "Now I know that it must all be true, for what other fickle mistress would put my heart in the hands of a Gryffindor but fate?"

Hermione allowed his laugh to penetrate and soothe her body. "Have you doubted the Animus Redimio, then?"

Severus sighed. "I have always known. Ever since the day that you were kidnapped and brought to me, I knew. The dread that gripped me when I was forced to strike you could not have been anything else. To hurt one to whom you are bound is a sin of the highest degree. I tried to hurt you again and again to make myself believe that my fate was different, but I was wrong. It seems that my heart would not give up on me."

"It must be a smart organ," she quipped, flashing a bright smile.

"She is," he replied, his hand moving down to rest on the center of her chest. "I have tried to give myself a hundred reasons why I should not be here, Hermione. I have tried to fight it, fight you, but I have failed. Our bond scared me, for I was afraid that even the very power of magic was trying to rule my life."

"What changed your mind?" She looked down at the hand that still lay lightly on her chest.

Severus took a deep breath. "You. I realized that, the Animus Redimio aside, I would have come to love you anyway."

Her bright, brown eyes widened at his words. "You… you love me?"

His laugh made her insides warm yet again. "I gave myself to you that day we escaped the Death Eaters. I finally surrendered myself to someone, and it was you. Could you doubt it?"

"If you say that it is true, I believe it, Severus." She lifted his hand gently from her chest and placed her own over it, pressing both over his heart. "I also believe that anything is worth saving this."

"But it should not have to mean the difference between your life and death." Severus looked down at their hands as Hermione interlaced her fingers with his. "Magic has a cruel sense of humor."

"Maybe it isn't as cruel as you think, Severus. Dumbledore told me that it isn't just about the magic. It's about what those bound together truly desire, what they need for their happiness. Couldn't you choose to see it as magic setting right in your path what you may have otherwise spent your entire life trying to find?"

"And what of you?" His voice was so quiet, it was almost a wordless breath.

"Me? I'm certainly glad that it has set in my path what I would rather die than be denied." Her smile shone with sweet sincerity.

"Do you know what you would be getting yourself into if you became involved with me?" She said nothing, but her eyes asked for him to continue. "I have never been with a woman before, because I know that I would require her to belong to me completely and forever. I have lost too much in my life to risk losing anything so important. I gave myself to you, and you gave yourself to me. I meant it that night: what you gave me, I will never give back." He took a deep breath. "I am not some innocent, bumbling school boy like the ones who have ogled you. I am a man, a man whose life has been dark and haunted. I will not always be gentle, and I will not always be able to spare you the inevitable results of my past. But I will trust you, and I will give you what little I have to give. Merlin knows it is not much, but it will be yours, and I will not ask for its return. If you tell me that you will still have me despite all these things, I will believe you."

Hermione abruptly sat up in the bed and pushed Severus down on his back. With a wave of her hand, the candles in the room burned brighter, and she moved to straddle his hips. Her small hands gripped his surprised face, and, without a word, she was in his mind, not to read his thoughts but to lay all hers bare to him. She showed him all of her memories of him, including times she doubted him and mistrusted him in her younger years at Hogwarts. She showed him her attention to his potions skill in class, her understanding of the brilliance of his publications and research, her respect for his work in the war. She showed him her dreams, her slow realization of the messages he and Dumbledore had been giving her, and her understanding of the deep conflict he felt and betrayal he assumed he had experienced from the Order. Finally, as if she were showing him the finale of the grand story of her memories of him, she showed him the pure love she had felt when they shared a bed for the first time, the love she knew had been there for quite some time, even before she knew about the bond. He watched as she feared for his safety, her desperate pain when he came to the final battle dressed as a Death Eater, and the even greater pain she felt when she believed he would walk away from her. Then, he saw himself in that moment as they lay together on her bed in Hogwarts, her ready acceptance of all he had said and the man that he was, flaws, weaknesses, and all.

When she had broken the connection, they continued to stare at each other, breathless, neither knowing how to proceed or what to say.

"Hermione…" Severus finally moaned, breaking the silence. With one swift motion, he flipped their positions so that he was lying on top of her. He fingered the straps of her maroon camisole, and she realized a bit belatedly that she had got into bed with only the revealing shirt and matching knickers. He smirked at her sudden discomfort. "A bit underdressed?"

She blushed deeply. "Next time I know you're going to sneak into my bed in the middle of the night, I will try to remember to wear my dress robes." She looked over his sparse apparel. "What's your excuse?"

He smiled more widely and embarrassment crossed his own features. "I did not have time to consider my wardrobe before I knew I had to come to you." He waved his hand, and, to Hermione's astonishment, their clothes disappeared from their bodies and appeared in a pile on the floor. "Is that better?"

She could feel his erection pressing against her leg, and it deepened the arousal she had felt since the moment his arm had pressed her against his body in her bed. "Yes." She lifted her hips in an attempt to claim him.

He gasped and pulled back. "Hermione, wait…"

Hermione smiled indulgently at him and sat up in the bed, patting the space next to her. He obliged, and soon they were curled into each other, still very naked, and surrounded by the soft blanket that topped the bed. "What is it, Severus?"

"I love you very much, but…"

"And I love you," she interrupted. "But what?"

He breathed a sigh of relief, realizing that this was the first time that she had said the words, and he had taken for granted that she did, indeed, love him. "But I am afraid. You need to tell me what you want, Hermione. I know you have tried to placate me by leaving it to me, but you must tell me now, before we begin down a road from which we cannot turn."

Hermione considered his severe features for a moment. He was not handsome in the traditional sense, she admitted to herself. His nose was as large and crooked as all the popular insults of him mentioned, and the deep crease between his brows betrayed years of anger and anxiety. His whole appearance suggested neglect, from the greasiness of his hair to the stain of his teeth. Still, there was something behind those dark, forbidding eyes that promised passion, and try as she did to talk herself out of wanting all of him, flaws included, she couldn't. "I want you, Severus, and I did long before I knew the consequences of not having you. I have wished, ever since I was brought before you as your captive, for you to let down your guard with me and allow yourself to be loved by someone with no ulterior motives. I want us both to know that we could be destroyed by the other at any moment, left bereft and hopeless, but trust, with every ounce of our beings, that it will not happen. I want you to put your hands on me, not because you feel guilty for what your life has wrought on me, but because you desire me. I want all of you, even the parts that have earned and will continue to earn you scorn from the entirety of our world for the rest of our lives. I want you to look on me and see in me the promise of all your life has not been, and I want you to surrender to it as I have surrendered myself to you. If you cannot accept that, I would rather you walk away now and leave me to die, because the death of my heart caused by knowing you do not want me every bit as much as I want you would be worse than the destruction of my body."

He grabbed her by the chin, his unrelenting grasp forcing her to stare into his face. "You are a silly girl, Hermione Granger. Could you doubt that I want you? Gods, I know you could destroy me, because you almost did when I thought you were dead. I have feared the intimacy of life with another for so long, and yet here I am, on the precipice, ready to fall at your feet, give myself to you, and beg your forgiveness for all that I have done and all that I am."

Hermione reached up to stroke his cheek. "You will never need my forgiveness, Severus Snape. You need only your own." A lone tear spilled from her eye as she watched the man before her blossom from the shell he had been for so many years.

Severus swiftly wiped the tear away with his thumb and smoothed the salty liquid over Hermione's lips. "If I take you now," he whispered darkly, "there will be no turning back. The first two times, you had your chance to walk away, but this time, I will make you mine. I will have your innocence and your love, and you mine, and we will be forever bound to one another."

"Take me, Severus." Her eyes fluttered closed as his hand snaked down to stroke her sensitized nipple. "No hesitation, no regrets. Love me, now."

He could feel the heat radiating from her body, that delicious warmth created by snuggling against soft sheets in bed. It overwhelmed his senses, and he was unable to resist succumbing to her command.

Slowly, he slid down the mattress, and Hermione followed, both lying on their sides and entwining their arms around each other as they began a slow, tender kiss. His flagging erection sprang to life again, tickling the inside of her leg.

He pulled away from her lips and gazed into her eyes, feeling warm puffs of breath on his face. "You have completely bewitched me."

Hermione couldn't speak as he gently pushed her onto her back. Kneeling over her, he ran his hands up her sides until he reached her armpits. With a gentle insistence, he coaxed her arms over her head and held them down with light pressure in his right hand. "You have me completely at your mercy."

He covered her body with his, his insistent erection pressing itself between her legs, begging for the release he knew only she could provide. "I love you, Hermione," he gasped as, with a jilted thrust of his hips, he joined their bodies.

Hermione writhed beneath him in a mixture of relief and ecstasy. It was as though each of his now more measured and powerful thrusts were a promise never to leave her again. She pulsed against him, trying to keep him sheathed inside of her as his frantic movements threatened to separate them. He was almost brutal in his motions, his teeth clenched and his eyes wild. "Severus," she whimpered. "I am not going anywhere!" Her voice was almost a whisper as she looked into his dark eyes. He was staring at her intently, as though trying to gauge if she could handle him in her life by witnessing him nearly losing control in her bed.

He stilled his movements and looked down at her. "Have I hurt you?"

She smiled lovingly at him and brought her hips up to grind against his. "No, and you never will be able to again."

Her sudden boldness and unexpected words caused Severus to take a few more gentle turns about her body before bringing them both to completion, hers a gasping, "Oh!" and his a trembling sigh. Before collapsing breathlessly beside her, Severus whispered against Hermione's ear, "You are mine."

--

The next morning, Severus and Hermione packed all of their belongings and made to return to Spinner's End after Hermione had visited with her friends, and Severus had spoken with Albus.

There was only a short time left before the end of term, and Slughorn agreed to finish out the year teaching Potions. Hermione suggested to Severus that he return to Hogwarts in the fall with her as his very capable apprentice. Once they had achieved some stability in their lives and in the wizarding world, she reasoned with him, they could leave the school and do whatever they wanted. However, for now, Hogwarts was a place that was precious to them both, and it seemed natural to begin their life together there.

Long months of sorting out dark wizards from the magical world lay before them, and no one was quite sure how everything was going to look in the near future. There were many wounds, both physical and emotional, that needed to be healed. Families had been shattered, lives had been lost, and many secrets and lies waited to be uncovered. Those who had not fought basked in the glory of a world free from Voldemort, but those who had witnessed his downfall, and the deaths of many on both sides of the war, knew that the enjoyment of victory was not always so easy.

Within the shabby walls of Spinner's End, however, one conflict had seen its end. The Animus Redimio satisfied, the discomfort caused by its command diminished and was replaced with love, a love that was forged by nature and strengthened by the wills of those enraptured by it. One stomach settled, and one heart relieved, two mere mortals accepted the mysterious gift that had been given to them.

--

_A/N part deux: Well, this is it, the end of this story. I know there are some loose ends, but that leaves me with a wonderful chance to have my own little alternative universe to write in after DH, doesn't it? And I will, I just can't say when I will start on a sequel. I am working on a little comedy, and I wrote a piece for the SSHG exchange, so I won't be disappearing! Thank you all again for being so wonderful!_


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